The Remembering
by WorldInvent
Summary: How does one remind a goblin how to guard? A fairy how to fly? A heart how to trust? To save those we love sacrifices must be made.
1. Chapter 1

This story began as a midnight rambling last year. By ye warned there are J/OC moments about. Fair warning my precious.

* * *

"You cannot be here. Firstly, you're a story book character. Secondly, I'm not Sarah!"

The situation I found myself in was simply a hallucination. Nights of insomnia with writer's block, caffeine, and goblin research had simply left me in a suspended state of reality/fantasy mix up. I glanced down at my desk scattered with papers that were illuminated with light by my computer screen- all of my research on the realm of the Fae, goblins, and the like- it was just getting to me. I pulled strands of my red hair behind my ears.

In the past five years I had dedicated my life to the study of all things fantasy, and had determined to write a well educated work of fiction in said genre. I had been obsessed with goblins and faeries, gnomes and sprites, pixies and nymphs since my childhood. I had developed a certain hidden fantastical taste for men who spoke with accents and wore stylish clothes. The world of my book had encompassed everything; to the point where now, the lines of reality were blurring.

Then my eye caught a tattered book that simply read The Labyrinth. The cover was dog-eared and the pages smelt of time. I knew that about half way through the story, colored stills from the movie were inserted. All of the loveable characters- Ludo, Sir Dydimus, Hoggle- brought to life by talented puppeteers. It was simply a story book; a piece of pop culture memorabilia.

I looked back up.

Yet here standing in front of me, making odd conversation and proclaiming truths, was another character. The resemblance was uncanny to the actor from the movie- same blonde hair, mismatched eyes, and (darn my rem sleep), even the accent. He cocked an eye brow and casually put a hand on his hip.

"You cannot be here!" I exclaimed again, taking a step back.

He smirked. "My dear, I can be wherever I choose- the Goblin King doesn't need permission to travel about."

My next thought was to some how disengage myself from the slumber I knew my conscience self had fallen into. I was merely asleep. I glanced hurriedly around- my coffee cup sat on the desk. I reached for it, and gulped what was left of the brown brew flavored with French vanilla. Nothing. The Goblin King shook his head, obviously amused. I made ready to begin slapping my own cheeks. Before the dreadful sting though, two hands clasped my wrists.

"My dear that isn't necessary!"

"Oh yes it is!" I argued back, thinking at the same time that it seemed silly to be arguing with a figment of my imagination. "See I need to wake up! This isn't happening."

"Take a deep breath," came the calm reply. "It will sooth you."

I inhaled deeply, musing that at this point to avoid hysteria maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to cooperate. My lungs filled with strange scents- spices, flowers, and earth. The hands relaxed around my wrists. I breathed again. I smelt roses, cinnamon, fresh cut grass, and spring water.

"You cannot smell in dreams, my dear." He released me.

I looked up into his face- the smells seemed to radiate right off of his body. I shuffled back a step or two.

He was right- you cannot smell in dreams. At least, I wasn't able to. I reconsidered my situation. If indeed the Goblin King had come into my study, then perhaps it was best to know what exactly he wanted. Of course it would be nice to know how he found me, or knew me. The fleeting thought of some random fan-fiction involving him and I ran through my mind- I hope he didn't know about that piece of writing.

"So," I began. "You're really here?"

He smiled. "You smell all of those delicious scents? They are all me."

"That's quite the unique talent- most men I know smell like deodorant."

"Hmph! My personal hygiene aside, wouldn't you like to know why I am here?"

"Um, I think so. Yes, I would like to know why you are here. I mean, this situation is just plain crazy… for so many reasons. It just doesn't add up."

"Hold your inane babbling, please." He turned away from me and went to the desk. He lifted a few sheets of paper. "These!"

"What- my writing?"

"Yes, you're writing has brought me here." He filtered through a few sheets.

I stood there watching him, considering what he had said. Why would he be here for my writing? I was a dedicated lover of all things fantasy. I would sit for hours imagining smells, hearing voices, and stepping through enchanted forests without ever leaving my computer chair. Parts of me believed in the faeries, dragons, dwarfs, and elves that flowed from my mind to paper. If I couldn't actually feel it, then it wouldn't be real to my readers. So to even finer tune my writing I took to actually researching different cultures mythical backgrounds and what the Fae meant to them. I even read parts of other authors' works.

The story of The Labyrinth had been a huge inspiration for me. It was a story that had crawled into the farthest corners of my imagination and had taken up permanent residency. It wouldn't be put out; never mind all of the other novels that passed through my hands. It was a love story. It was a coming of age story. It was a fantasy story.

None of this though explained why I was seeing the Goblin King standing in my computer room. He gave me a side ways glance, "It isn't obvious to you?" he asked.

"W-what?"

"Why I'm here?"

"I'm afraid not. Quite honestly I'm not fully convinced that this is really happening."

"You'll eventually be convinced. When you write, when you see those detailed images in your mind, does it ever feel real?"

"As a rule if I don't feel it, then it can't be real to my readers."

"But isn't it more than that?" He came close, bending near. "Don't you ever feel as if a fairy were flying next to you? Or that a goblin was behind your chair?"

My mouth involuntarily gapped. No one knew about the parts of me that believed.

"It doesn't just happen with what you write either. When you read The Never Ending Story, you felt the wind whip past your face as if it were you ridding the luck dragon."

He abruptly turned away.

I blinked and closed my mouth. "Ok, so I indulge my imagination…what does that have to do with you?"

"You do more than indulge, my dear. You remind."

"Pardon?"

He went to the window and stood looking out for quite some time.


	2. Chapter 2

I took his lapse of silence to consider his revelation. As strange as this all was, the shock was starting to wear off a little; I began to think. What could I possibly remind, for that matter who was I reminding? And what? I never spoke to anyone about the windows I looked into or the little creatures who would walk by my side. I heard him sigh. I looked up to find that he had turned back to face me. His face had some what softened.

"You, Rebekah Aura Clydsdale, you remind us. Seeing that you still look immensely puzzled," he continued beginning a light pace about the room. "I will explain. Two months ago our local physician called me to his quarters to show me a most distraught fairy. One moment she had been flying merrily around and the next she had fallen out of the air. She had simply forgotten how to fly."

"Just, out of no where, forgot?" I was stunned.

"No matter how hard the little dear tried she could not take flight. In two weeks an entire fairy colony had been grounded. There's more," he went on, noting that I was willing to listen. "recent events that have occurred. I have goblins who cannot remember their duties or their favorite games." The frustration was becoming evident in his voice. I shuffled back a step. "Just last week I had a cook- she wasn't anything fancy, but we had our meals and were satisfied. This morning I found her starring blankly at pots and pans, not a clue as to what she was supposed to do."

"Agnes!" The cook, the goblin cook her name was Agnes. Where was that book on goblins? I realized that I had spoken her name out loud.

"You know her?" he demanded.

"I know of her. There's a goblin expert, Brian Froud who did work on her- an illustration and a description." I placed a hand to my forehead and massaged the skin. Perhaps the un-realness of it made it seem more probable. "So… what have you done to figure out the cause of the predicament?"

"The physician and I have kept a close watch on those who have…"

"Fallen ill?" I offered.

"Been affected," he countered curtly. "Then I myself began to search out someone from another world that maybe of help to us." His eyes narrowed at me.

I avoided his gaze and exasperatedly looked around the room at all of my books and writing. "Why me? What makes you think that I can be of any use?"

He picked up a few more papers. "Your voice healed one of the fairies. Does the phrase silver-tongue mean anything to you?"

I glanced at my book shelf. Silver tongue that phrase did mean something to me. The book- what was it? A character had the ability to talk things out of books- he made them come out of their world into ours by reading about them.

"A human with the extraordinary ability of reading things to life," he said as if he had read my thoughts. "Their beliefs and abilities allow our kind to thrive. I brought one of the fairies to your window one of the nights I knew you were studying their kind. Your voice worked like a drought of medicine. She leapt from my hand and took flight."

"You brought a fairy to my window?"

He ignored me. "Her recovery was infectious- most of the swarm recovered."

"My voice did it? And silver tongue? Healing fairies?"

I was repeating snippets trying to process the information. I could feel the original panic returning. My heart started to pound in my ears. I slid into the computer chair. He stood there and said no more. I closed my eyes and breathed deep. The dream I had hoped for wasn't ending. I glanced in his direction- he was still there. "So..I…" I couldn't even form the right question.

He moved to my side. His scent grew strong again. "I am here to get your aid."

"What do you want me to do- come to the Labyrinth with you?"

"Precisely!" he said it with gusto.

I brought my head up. My logical said screamed "Crazy" and my stomach was tight, but the words came out, "Alright. You're asking me to come and remind your world, the Underground, of who they are?"

"Not asking- telling you that's what I want. For the sake of my kingdom I would bring you kicking and screaming back with me."

I didn't doubt him. The lingering memory of the Labyrinth story book told me that the Goblin King always meant his threats.

"Fine, I'll come. If it's all a dream I'll wake up and be none the worse. If it's real, then I would be stupid to not see the stuff that dreams are made of. Let me just think what I'll need to take." He handed me back the few papers he had picked up.

I gathered the remaining papers on the desk and slid them into a folder. I began looking at the various books, trying to decide what I would need. I knew I wouldn't be able to recall from memory all of the goblins' names, their duties, and the like. I picked up several Brian Froud books dealing in fairies and goblins. "Is it just the goblins and faries?" I asked as I stacked the books.

"No there are others. I suggest that you bring your note book as well." He moved to a small side table and opened the drawer. I watched him closely- inside that drawer was something that no one was allowed to look at. He drew out a leather bond book.

"Not that one!" I exclaimed reaching out for his hand, forgetting who I was dealing with. "That book is personal!" I yelled at him.

He arched his arm above his head, putting the book well out of my reach. "We're bringing it."

"No, that book isn't a story or any form of research, it's personal."

"I know what it is- something of a diary. It is important." He shoved it into my hands.

My mind was racing. The contents of this diary were incredibly personal- my thoughts, my desires, my perceptions. These were things that I especially did not want the Goblin King to see. Reluctantly I added it my collection of books and sought out my messenger bag to carry the load in. He waited at the window all the while tapping one of his boot clad toes as if he were impatient to leave.

I shouldered the bag. "Alright, I think I'm ready."

"Good." He moved near to me, opening his arms. I shrunk back in alarm. "I'm not going to hurt you, silly woman. You need to hang onto me in order to come with me."

Part of my so called "silly woman" side rolled with glee. I mentally slapped myself and remained composed- this man was a Fae with powers and authority I needed to be wary of.

"Put your arms around me."

Almost fearful that my touch would make him vanish in a puff of glitter and smoke, I put my arms around his waist, leaving barely enough breathing room. I heard him snicker, and in an instant his arms were around me pressing our bodies together. My feet left the ground the same moment I yelped.

I don't know what he expected or for that matter what I even expected of the situation. He stepped away from me, and I looked to see myself standing in a throne room. In front of me a wide chair was positioned- it was enclosed by a set of ivory tusks. It was the Goblin King's throne. Surrounding that, on the walls, were various objects of war: shields, swords, morning stars, spears. I gulped. From behind the throne a little head appeared, followed by another. I realized that there were goblins, openly staring at me from various places. 'Don't panic, don't panic!' I thought to myself. Someone cleared their throat and I turned to find the king looking at me with a quizzical look on his face.

"Is something wrong?"

I glanced nervously at my leering audience. Best feign confidence, "Nope. I'm good."

"Then quit standing about and follow me." He turned on his heel and made for a stair case. I followed, happy to leave behind the goblins. "Things are in such disarray that I will have to do as something of a personal guide for you."

"Thank you."

"I take no pleasure in it," he snipped back. "I should be about my usual kingdom affairs, not escorting you about."

I snipped back, "You won't be about any kingdom business unless your subjects are returned to their normal state."

He abruptly turned to face me. I knew I had spoken too brashly, but I wasn't about to be bullied into helping. "Watch your tongue or there will no gratitude for your services. I am well aware of your temperament, and at present I am no mood to deal with stubborn young ladies." He gave me no opportunity to respond (and how I wanted to retort!), but turned and continued up the stairs.

He provided me with a room for my own personal use consisting mainly of a bed and a desk. There was also a wardrobe which contained a few dresses. I was instructed to change while he waited outside. I sat down my bag and pulled open the wardrobe. Standing there, looking at the clothes that seemed right out of Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast, my original panic returned. What the freak was I doing here? Why had I agreed? And why had I chosen to be involved with the Goblin King? I wanted to cry. 'Why?" my conscience responded. 'Because you're too dang curious that's why. Admit it to yourself girly the prospect of being escorted around by one Goblin King was an offer even too tempting for you. Plus to see the creatures you envision?'

"I would have done anything," I said out loud finishing my own thought. I selected a very simple gown in time to hear knocking at my door. The king was demanding to know what was taking me so long to dress. "I'm done! Come in!" I rolled my eyes.

He entered. "Come along now- quite dawdling about!"

"I'm not dawdling!" I exclaimed. The intensity of the few hours past was getting the better of me. "A little patience and even a little courtesy wouldn't hurt you at all. You need me, ok? So allow me a moment or two to come to grips with the fact that I'm living in a fantasy at the moment, or you won't be getting my help!"

He stood there, calm and silent. No reaction occurred, not even a flinch. I spun from him, fuming. "Are you quite finished?" he finally asked.

"What if I'm not?" I retorted hotly.

"Forgive me if you current predicament isn't to your liking and that you find yourself lacking the self control to deal with the situation, but I have kingdom falling to ruin about my head and I cannot stop it. So excuse me if I am not currently in the mood to bend to your whims. I am rather in a hurry to fix things." I heard foot steps and a door opening. Turning to look at him I found him standing beside the bed room door. "Come along," was all he said. Chocking back tears I complied.


	3. Chapter 3

The kingdom was falling into ruin.

Morning was just breaking in the Underground. As the sun broke the horizon I found myself standing in a court yard surrounded by a variety of plants. There was also a walk way and a few stone benches. Observing closer I noticed discarded gardening tools, as if in the middle of weeding the gardener became distracted and left his work.

Near by were the stables, and though the horses still understood what sort of beast they were, very few of the stable hands did. One little fellow was attending to three horses on his own, while two of his fellow handy men were using the mane combs in their own hair. I couldn't help, but slightly snicker at the situation, and I received a cold glance from the king for it.

We saw much more that morning- creatures in such distress at not knowing how to do the simplest of tasks, or things that were once instinctual becoming foreign to them. My heart went out to them. What had the king told me before in my computer room, "….beliefs and abilities allow our kind to thrive…" He had been referring to the ones he called silver-tongued. Part me wondered with a sincere degree of sadness just how many people, humans had forgotten to cause such chaos.

Upon returning to the castle he led me to the kitchen area. "Agnes is still perplexed as to how to boil an egg or prepare toast," he started, entering the room and moving towards the hearth. "Again it would seem I will have to accommodate you and myself by fixing something to break fast with." His tone seemed annoyed.

I offered to help, but was promptly told to sit on a stool out of the way. "So…ummm, just how long has this situation been going on for?"

He filled a pot with water as he answered, "Two months, too long."

"Is it only your kingdom?"

"Yes."

"Does anyone outside your kingdom know what's going on?"

He had turned his attention to the hearth, building a decent fire. He paused in his work. "I brought you here to fix the situation, not play detective and find out why it happened."

"Sorry. I," Perhaps a different tactic was in order. He was sounding defensive and I knew that as a king he had to be feeling some what ill at ease. "I'm sorry for freaking out on you earlier in the bedroom." He was cutting bread now. "You must be very frustrated and probably even a little embarrassed right now, and I wasn't helping."

I heard the knife tap the cutting board. "I just want things fixed." His tone had lost some of its edge. He looked over his shoulder at me. "Considering what you have seen this morning, do you feel capable?"

I met his eyes- the intensity had eased from his voice, but not from his pupils. "You told me that I healed the fairy by merely reading- if that's the case I can read until I'm hoarse."

Eggs were boiling and he had sat the bread to toast. He offered me a mug, "Coffee? I accepted.

One thought nagged at me still. "Are you confident that it was just my voice?"

He retrieved the eggs and toast. "You are silver-tongued, no doubt. Eat your food and we will begin."

I ate my food pondering over my capabilities.

The first creatures I was to fix were a group of goblin guards who had originally been given the task of protecting certain rooms filled with the king's wealth. The head guard roughly two weeks ago had arrived to check on the morning watch to only discover his mend sitting idly by. "What are ya lazy bones about?" he had demanded of them. The guards had looked back at him blankly and declared that they hadn't the foggiest notion what they were to be about. That it would also please them greatly if he could inform them of their proper duties. Flustered beyond all clear thought, the head guard made to reply, but he as well could not tell them. The entire guard spent the remainder of the day playing poker.

I looked at the group of goblins assembled before me, some with running noses that they smeared with the backs' of their hands; others seemingly sucking who knew what from under their finger nails. From them I looked at the king desperately wanting to ask what would possess him to have such a lot guard his wealth. My puzzled expression was met with indifference. "Read," he ordered. I selected a passage from a book on goblins.

Glancing from the text to the goblins I noticed a change in their expressions. Having a purpose in one's life does wonders and goblins are no different in this respect. They retrieved their spears and axes, and the first orders were bellowed off. "Two by two! No one shall pass these doors without knowing the password! We change at noon!" I smiled to myself, amazed that it had worked. As if seeking his approval I turned toward the king.

"A small beginning," was all he said.

I pshawed him. "I just reminded them of their purpose in life and all you can say is, 'small beginning'? I consider this be quite the accomplishment!"

He merely turned and walked away beckoning me to follow.

I found myself congratulating myself and rambling on out loud at how incredible my feat had been. I had merely spoken; all it took was my voice; did you see the change that came over them? All I had done was read a passage from a book!

"Do you doubt yourself now? Or my faith in your ability?" he asked as I paused for breath.

"No, not at all. How did you know that I could do this?" I caught up and over took him. "You say you brought a fairy to my window, but how did you know to bring her in the first place?"

A smiled threatened to turn his lips. "That is not a conversation for now. Don't allow your self too much excitement," he then admonished as he began walking again. "You have many more things to remind!"


	4. Chapter 4

Several times that day I found myself returning to my chamber to retrieve a book or review a piece of writing. I was not prepared for the extent to which everything had gone. A forgetful epidemic was what it all appeared to be. Through all of the remindings his majesty mostly watched with little comment or even gratitude. For myself I was proud of my new found ability. After two days I had healed as it were, Agnes the cook, a group of fight birds called B-713s, some personal attendants, and had set to rights two different swarms of faeries. My vocal chords were also growing steadily hoarse.

He had brought me to a small garden on the outskirts of the Labyrinth. There a fairy clan made its home in a dried out wishing well. The poor dears were in great distress over their current predicament- they were unable to fly and without flight they couldn't gather nectar; without their nectar they would starve. He stood conversing with what appeared to be the queen for some time. "She is very capable," I heard him say. "I would not trust your health to just any mortal. I am aware Delilah, yes, but if you wish to fly again to gather your nectar, then you must let her near you." He nodded and walked away from the well to where I was standing. "Be on your best behavior- Queen Delilah is very wary of humans."

I cleared my throat. "Why?"

"Ever read Peter Pan?"

I coughed. "You mean that whole bit about believing in faeries is true?"

"Very." I again coughed. "You're not getting sick on me are you?"

"Ahem! No, my throat is just irritated."

We walked together to the well. Standing on the ledge was a faery, all of five inches tall dressed in what looked like flower petals. In her hand she held a gold scepter.

"Queen Delilah, this is Rebekah Clysdale. Rebekah, Queen Delilah of the Flower Swarm."

Thinking what would show the utmost respect I curtsied deep to her. "Your highness."

"Ms. Clysdale. King Jareth here tells me you're silver-tongued, is this true?"

Blast it all, but my throat was tickling again. I stifled a cough. "Yes, your highness. I," Coughing loudly I turned my head away. I heard him sigh.

The faery queen warily stood back from me. "Jareth, this mortal does not sound well."

"Your highness, forgive me," I started my voice faltering like a pubescent boy. "I have been reading none stop for two days…ahem…my voice is just weak. Please allow me to remind your swarm and restore some order to your life."

Her fingers tapped her scepter. "Alright, young woman, I trust you. Read for us."

I brought forth a book and began reading.

Faery flight is almost an art form. It is done with grace, control, and in harmony with the air. The wings of a faery must caress the wind, moving with the element as if they were lovers. To force flight is to strain a well balanced relationship.

Over the book I saw the wings of Queen Delilah twitch.

Flight is a faery's only form of transportation. Such dependency calls for the utmost respect and care. Their wings are to be thought of as if they possessed their own life; a life that belongs to the air.

Quite suddenly Queen Delilah was shooting up through the air, her wings beating. She had remembered. Jareth smiled up at her and then down at me. I watched with awe- she moved like a bird with the speed of an insect. It was amazing. Then there was a humming sound from within the well. The entire swarm joined her in the air. She came level with my face, "Bless you Rebekah Clysdale! Bless you!" I wanted to respond, but found my voice had reached its limit. "Jareth! Call the physician for this young woman! Get her well- a silver-tongued mortal is nothing to trifle with. Fare thee well King of the Goblins!" she ascended again.

"Fare thee well Queen of the Flower Swarm!" he called in return. He turned to find me coughing again. He had me hold tight to him.

He brought me back to the castle. The door we stood outside of was decorated in various symbols. In the center, where normally a knocker would be, a crystal shard had been laid into the wood. He knocked loudly on the door, calling out, "Bartholomew! Bartholomew! Are you about?"

The door was swung inward to reveal an elf in white garments with long blond hair, straight and sleek. The strands were held away from the face- two blue eyes looked at us. "Your majesty!" there was surprise in his tone.

"I have need of your aid." The king indicated me still holding to his waist. I realized that between the moment of seeing the swarm take flight and the moment of finding myself at the door, I had grown immensely tired. It was as if the last passage read had drained the last of my resources. Much to the disapproval of my sensible side, leaning on the king was terribly comfortable. He held me steady as we walked into the physician's room.

"Come in! Come in!" he said making room for us. "Yes at once. Young lady what can I do for you?"

I tapped a finger to my throat. "Can hardly talk," it was near a whisper now.

"Dear me that sounds awful. Sit yourself down there." He turned away and retrieved an otoscope. "Do you have a name?"

I attempted an answer and coughed instead. Frustrated I motioned to the king to answer.

"Her name is Rebekah. She is here as my guest." He went and stood behind the physician. Arms folded, he looked intently at me.

"Well Ms Rebekah, kindly open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Hmm! Very red and irritated." He then felt the glands along my jaw and throat. "A little swollen too. Been out playing in cold rain have you now?" He asked teasingly. He seemed genuinely interested in my health- I liked him almost instantly. Smiling back I shook my head. "No? Ms. Rebekah you have all the signs of a cold and sore throat. I'll give you some herbal tea and require that you refrain from speaking for at least the next forty-eight hours." Over his shoulder, the king gave me a scowl. No talking meant no remembering.

"Absolutely no talking?" he pressed.

"Yes. If she intends to get a voice back that is as beautiful as her looks, she must remain silent." Again he smiled at me. It was such a warm and inviting smile that I couldn't help but respond in like again.

In two steps the king was at my side, a hand on my shoulder. "Yes, silence and rest then," he said. "Send the tea round to the chambers across from my own. Come!" His was pulling me to my feet. I gave the physician a look of gratitude and we were gone.

All I wanted to do was lie down. As soon as we appeared in my chamber I made for my bed. He helped me- pulling down the comforter and situating my pillow. Then he stood there, looking at me. I used my hands to describe my need for paper and a pen- if I couldn't speak then I would need alternative forms to communicate. He waved a hand in the air and produced a tablet and a pencil. I bent a knee and scribbled, "Will you survive without my services for two days?" I smiled as he read it.

"You've restored a decent amount of order- I'll make do. For now you need to rest. I'll see that you get your tea."

Even with a pencil and paper I couldn't resist being sarcastic with him. "Waiting on me now? I thought you took no pleasure in doing such."

He pursed his lips at me and raised an eye brow. "Easy girly- if you provoke me, no one will hear you scream." With a smirk he turned and left the room.

I was left to my own thoughts then. My book bag was at the end of the bed. I retrieved my small leather bound book and began write my thoughts out. The king was a bit of a bother, really; part of me wished he would show a little more gratitude for everything I had been doing. As handsome and intriguing as he was, he was very intense. Now Bartholomew, the physician, the elf, he was agreeable. My last thought before drifting off to sleep was a crazy image of the Goblin King holding an otoscope bending near me.


	5. Chapter 5

When I awoke I found that the king had returned. He was leisurely dressed in a loose fitting poet's shirt and slacks. Casually he leaned on the bed post at the foot of the bed. I made the best questioning expression I could muster. "Just looking," he assured.

You sir don't look, I thought, you leer.

"And your tea is here." I noticed a service at the desk. He retrieved a cup from it and brought it to me. "It's licorice root among other things, it will help sooth your throat and boost your immune system. When you said you could read out loud until you were hoarse," he continued as I drank. "I didn't think to take it literally."

I merely rolled my eyes. I scribbled, "So aside from 'just looking' what brings you here?"

"Curiosity." He sat on the edge of the bed. "These last two days have left me wondering how you could not have known of your ability. A talent such as yours is rare, even among our own, but there surely had to have been some odd occurrences that made you question."

Becoming aware of the fact that his eyes were securely locked on me, I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "I did wonder," I wrote. "Parts of me do believe that you already know. Your kind is not well accepted above."

"They are indeed getting farther and fewer between. So then what- you thought everyone would think you crazy if you voiced your beliefs?"

I half shrugged with a nod of my head.

This response seemed to draw concern from him. He leaned closer, "So you walk around with this faint understanding following you about like a ghost?" He paused as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "How long have you believed?"

Tapping my pencil I tried to calculate a time frame. "Basically my whole life."

He raised his eye brows and tisked with his tongue. "I am sorry," he said.

It seemed to me that he was apologizing for my life. I waved off the condolences showing indifference. The tea had relaxed my throat some what, "I knew no different" I managed to get out.

His eyes were considering me way too intensely. It was enough to almost induce squirming. I tapped his leg with my pencil and scribbled, "Mind if I show some curiosity?"

"Alright." He leaned away from me, relaxing against the bed post.

"Tell me how you found me."

He read the note and sighed disinterested. "No. Now be curious about something else."

I wagged my finger and shook my head. I underlined "tell me."

"It all has to do with kingdom affairs, something an outsider has no dealings with any how."

I was not so easily put off. "Am I here, under your care? Aren't I employed by you?" I wrote.

"Well yes,"

"Aren't all here employed by you, the king, also a subject of yours?"

"That's looking at it in a rather round about way,"

"And aren't all subjects concerned with the kingdom? Tell me." It was sloppy and dark with emphasis, but my point was clear.

He scowled at me. "I said no." I slumped back onto the pillows and drank my tea. "Are you going to sulk about it now?" I waved a hand, as if to say 'whatever' to the king. He sighed. "Alright yes you are a subject; yes you are employed by me, but….fine! I found you because I went looking for you, or at least someone with your talent. How is it we are even having this conversation when you are not even able to talk?" he then added with a tone of irritation. "I went looking for someone who had a deep belief in the Fae; who could help restore us."

"How long did you search?"

"A long time girly," he replied stretching.

"I suppose it would pushing my limits to ask how this all happened to begin with?" I warily showed him the question.

"It would indeed. You were found and are being put to good use. The day has grown late allow me to call a servant to bring you something for dinner."

The servant having been called for and the food order, the king took his leave of me.

The following morning I woke up feeling refreshed and the stiffness in my vocal chords had eased. The same servant who had attended me the night before was in again seeing to my needs. I was determined to spend some time out of bed- fresh air and a little walking to clear my head. The previous night's conversation with the king still swam in my thoughts. I had the servant arrange my breakfast out on a balcony. How does one go about finding someone who is silver-tongue? I mused to myself pulling on a robe that had been set out for me.

Outside Bartholomew was waiting for me. That warm smile greeted me, with an open hand. With sincere pleasantries he pulled out my chair and asked how I was feeling. My internal dialogue kept pace with the conversation, not only reviewing what had transpired between the king and I, but now a comparison in personalities. Bartholomew, elf and physician was by far much more agreeable company. He asked after my health, complimented my speedy recovery, and even insisted on visiting me again later in the day to determine if I could return to normal activities. In sharp contrast his highness seemed to consist of sarcasm, whit, and bullying as his only emotions. Only emotions, I mused as Bartholomew told me about his current duties, he was the one who took care of you yesterday; he did keep you company.

"Tell me Bartholomew," I asked in a whisper. "do you give all of your patients such devoted attention?"

"Would that he did," came a stern reply from behind us. I turned in my chair to find the king leaning at the entrance to the balcony. He seemed quite interested in the condition of one of his gloves. "Don't you have other patients to attend to this morning Bartholomew?"

"Sadly, yes I do," he replied standing. "Miss Rebekah, I bid you a good morning and I must insist on checking your glands and throat later today. Your majesty." He bowed courteously and left.

The king strode out onto the balcony. I noticed there was a slight change in his demeanor; the only way I knew how to put it was that this morning he seemed kingly. Ever seen a rooster strut? That was near his current demeanor. He took the seat that the elf had recently occupied and swinging one leg over the arm, he peered at my writing tablet. "Ah, are we on a first name bases with the physician already?" he asked dryly.

I raised an eyebrow as if to say, what difference does it make to you? Retrieving the tablet I wrote, "He's personal enough to be."

It was his turn to cock an eyebrow. "I see, and I'm not?"

I drank the last of my cup of herbal tea. I considered my response, and took the honest approach. Shaking my head I wrote, "No- you're guarded and sarcastic, hardly personable."

He chuckled. "It's been a little over two days and you think you have me figured out. Oh that is charming."

"I know your story," I whispered tersely, looking away from him.

"Now which story would that be?" He brought a finger to his lips as if he were having to really deliberate. "Would that be the cheeky one involving a girl a lot like you and myself, or the one by the professional author?"

I knew my cheeks had just changed color. I remembered him standing in my computer room and the fleeting fear that he had come across a certain fanfic involving the two of us. Feigning coolness I shrugged my shoulders.

"It makes a difference girly which 'me' you think you know. As to being guarded and sarcastic, most people just prefer to call me cruel." He moved, leaning on the table, bringing his head quite near my ear. "I think a first name bases should start between us." I noted his tone of voice had changed- cocky, yes, but also luring. "Yes, it should, at least in private." His scent had grown strong. Spices- cinnamon, nutmeg, clover- filled my lungs, sending a hot dart through my veins. "For the rest of your duration in the Underground I want you to call me Jareth." I breathed deep- the spices washed through me. "And I shall call you Rebekah always." He was right at my ear. There was a warmth in my veins that made me want to relax. The spices were near intoxicating. "Rebekah," he said my name again.

Something stirred in my subconscious; it was demanding attention. My breath stopped blocking the spices. Involuntarily I snapped my head away from his mouth. It had turned too intimate, too alluring. It was not meant for me to be on the receiving end of. I heard him move away and stand. Knowing that he was standing in front of me, waiting to see whether I would speak or at least give him some sort of look, I kept my eyes adverted. He left the balcony.

I was shaken. Finding him gone, I let out a shaky breath and allowed my body to relax. What had just happened? I asked myself. He had been so close. His voice had sounded like a caress. I rubbed my ears. Was it just some Fae trick? Had he been bored that morning and sought to amuse himself? Or had he forgotten….the last thought trailed. I almost didn't want to think it. It was at once both logical and silly. I realized my hands were gripping my knees. Such a notion also complicated things. Had Jareth the Goblin King forgotten Sarah?


	6. Chapter 6

I had returned to my room. Coughing a bit, clearing away hopefully the last of the mucus that was irritating my throat, I began to pace. The morning had passed in the contemplation of a conversation, the comparison of two men, and now my mind raced with all the knowledge I could recall regarding the story of The Labyrinth. It was published in 1986, authored by ACH Smith, published by Henry Holt and Company; featured eight pages of movie stills. Those were the technicalities. The story itself- king of the goblins gives a young girl named Sarah certain powers, she wishes away her baby brother, regretting her wish she faces The Labyrinth in an attempt to win him back. Along the way the king taunts her, she faces obstacles, wins the friendship of three different creatures, and in the end confronts the king in a battle of wills. Good verses evil? Innocence verse carnal knowledge? Love verses hate?

Which had it all really been?

Every Labyrinth fan out whoever day dreamed or penned a fanfic would tell you that it was a battle of wills involving innocence and an offer of love too young to understand. What had the line been, had it actually said that the Goblin King loved her? The movie had certainly led you to believe it. I went to the desk and began sorting through my books.

M copy of The Labyrinth was not there.

Initially my mind began to race. Without the book I couldn't know the words for sure. Without knowing the words for sure I couldn't remind Jareth (had I accepted the first name bases already?). If I could not remind Jareth of whom his love was, then what? Would the real Sarah live out the rest of her living days pinning for him? Would I turn the world up side down?

Then rationality began sinking in. The Fae were a fickle, tempting sort. If indeed Sarah had rejected his love, why live in the past? Even if he still pinned for her, the possibility of a Fae man living out his immortal existence monogamously seemed far fetched. So I was left knowing, yet unknowing. I was going to have to play detective and learn whether or not the king had indeed forgotten.

I sat reclined for most of the afternoon on the bed with paper and books. I wrote out questions that needed answers; scribbled out hypotheses that would need research. I even took my lunch of grilled cheese and chicken soup on the bed. The afternoon went by undisturbed and quiet. By the time evening arrived I felt prepared to interrogate the king.

My throat felt better and my energy level was returning so that I inquired if the king would want company for dinner. A servant arrived and helped me dress. My red hair was even down up in a simple bun. I stopped to look at myself in the mirror. Despite the slightly caged animal look that flickered through my eyes periodically, I felt that I looked very presentable. Going back into the washroom to apply some cosmetics, I heard a knock at my door. The servant answered and Bartholomew walked in. Gone were the white robes that I become used to seeing him in. He wore a fitted black suite, with a burgundy vest, complete with a cravat at his neck. My silly woman side peeked out from within myself and smiled like a little girl. He was quite fetching. "Miss Rebekah, you look wonderful!" He took my hand and bent over it. "From your appearance I can surmise that you must be feeling quite well."

"I am," I replied.

"She speaks!" he said enthusiastically. "Let's not push the limits though. How does your throat feel? The swelling has subsided."

"I am feeling near normal. I am to join the king for dinner."

"Ah then, allow me to be your escort. We dine tonight in one of the king's private apartments. A lady in our presence shall keep us men polite and civilized."

"I just need another moment," I told him moving back into the wash room. Messing with something looked like eye shadow, I thought through my list of questions. "Has it been a while then since a lady has been in the castle?"

"No, dear me, we have several ladies here." My eyes widened. "But goblin women tend to not hold to the same level of civility that Fae do." I relaxed. "Nor are they as pleasing to behold," he added as I came back out.

There was a moment of sweet awkwardness. Did I just blush? I thought to myself. He extended his arm and escorted me to dinner.

Leading me through a series of doors, we ended in a private chamber. A table had been set for three on one side of the room. On the other a small couch faced a decent sized fire place. Leaning on the mantle was the king. His choice of garments begged to be starred at- fitted breaches with knee high boots. His top was a white poet shirt complimented with a fitted leather vest. Quite suddenly the memory of his effect on my senses earlier came back. I tried not stare. He turned toward us as we entered. "Jareth, good evening," said Bartholomew cordially bowing.

"Bartholomew." His eyes came to me. Part of me wished I hadn't applied any makeup; that I still looked sick. "Rebekah." Taking my hand he bowed over it.

"Good evening," was all I managed to get out.

Bartholomew led me to the table, but the king held my chair for me. Dinner was polite. I tried to gear the conversation towards topics that would help me know and understand my situation. The two men would have no topic unless it related to current kingdom business. Borders, trading, subjects, other Fae- such topics that I was unfamiliar with and wasn't comfortable talking about. I became distracted looking at the interior of the room. Several very interesting art pieces hung on the walls. "It would appear," started the king. "that we are boring our guest."

"Pardon?" I was completely unaware of what had transpired.

"I ask you a question," he said.

"Perhaps the lady finds our topic of little interest," offered the healer. "After all kingdom affairs are not that exciting."

"Don't be silly Bartholomew," he insisted. He took his wine glass and smiled over it, lingering before taking a drink. "Rebekah has a keen interest in kingdom affairs, haven't you girly?"

I was aware of his mocking tone.

"What I was asking was whether or not you would be returning to my service tomorrow?"

"I believe so, you r highness." On cue my throat tickled and I coughed. I drank water to sooth it, as well as my nerves.

"Jareth," he corrected.

"Pardon?"

"I told you to call me Jareth. None of this 'your highness' business."

Nervously I glanced at the healer, who either out of respect or disinterest was studying the wine in his glass.

"I didn't think being in the presence of the healer was considered private."

A wicked grin passed over his face. He looked at through half closed lids. "I consider it to be. Bartholomew and I are too old of acquaintances to be formal all of the time."

I felt like he was trying to make some sort of public display out of me. I drank the water again, occupying my hands and giving my mouth something to do. Words were swallowed down; words that wanted to argue; words that wanted to apologize to Bartholomew for his highness' behavior.

"Very well…Jareth," I finally said.

"Good girl," was my reply. The conversation continued as if nothing had transpired.

After dinner Jareth made me sit on the couch that faced the fire. His eyes warned me that objections were useless. Bartholomew, ever gentle and kind, warned him not to keep me long. My health above all things he said needed to be considered. I resigned myself to the situation determined to probe the king's memory. I turned my attention to the two men- they had taken positions on either side of the hearth. From a long box that graced the mantle the king had removed two elegant pipes. The stems were delicately thin and smoothed to create an arch. As they conversed they each filled a pipe with his own personal selection of tobacco they kept on their persons'. "That man is a fool," Jareth was saying. He snapped his fingers over the pipe's head and it began to smolder. "Should he ever wish to appear at court he had better get priorities straight."

Bartholomew repeated the same action and drew from his pipe. "Appearing at court isn't something he wishes," countered the healer. "He wishes to expand his kingdom."

"He's picked the wrong king to toy with."

"Who has?" I asked.

The two men looked at me. Bartholomew smiled. "I see your point Jareth- she does have interest in kingdom affairs."

"A certain neighboring Fae thinks his kingdom too small. That I am conveniently near by makes him think I am easy taking." The king paused drawing on his pipe. The smell of the burning tobacco began to fill the room- it had a slight cherry flavor to it. "He's a cocky sort," he murmured.

I completely forgot myself and said the first thing that popped into my head, "Sounds like a normal Fae to me."

Bartholomew began to laugh at my comment. He laughed right in the face of the king. "It is true! Oh come off it Jareth- she's right and you know it," he said noticing the king offered little reaction. Smiling mischeviously he turned towards me "We're also the proud sort at times. We have a tendency to not admit our short comings." He winked. I laughed.

"There's a difference between cockiness and confidence," offered Jareth removing his pipe from his lips. He pointed at himself and squared his shoulders. "I am confident. King Brighton is cocky."

"If you're confident," I started feeding off the healer's good humor. "I should hate to learn what your idea of cocky is."

One elegant eye brow raised and mismatched eyes considering me defiantly. On the outside I continued to smile, while on the inside the look caused me to start. Darn my sharp tongue. The healer took no notice of the exchange as he had turned to knock his pipe clean into the hearth.

"I am away for the evening," he was saying.

"So soon?" I asked anxiously.

"Sadly yes, I have some patients who will need attention very early in the morning. Good night Rebekah." He took my hand and bent over it. "Good night Jareth."

"Bartholomew," he nodded as he puffed.

"Remember," he chided as he walked out the door. "do not keep her late." He was gone.

Leisurely the king took a seat on the couch still enjoying his pipe. I sat rather tensely unsure of what his look had really meant. Absently I licked my dry lips. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him- smoke curled lazily around as if he were a dragon. He inhaled and blew a large bloom that swirled and danced into the air. The cherry smell took on a distinct clove flavor. Another bloom followed and I looked more intently- the smoke seemed to have taken on a life that floated and lived very shortly. The tendrils moved liked dancers. He hummed quite un-expectedly. He was looking out through half closed eye lids. Another puff and several of the dancers floated near my head.

"How are you doing that?" I ventured to ask. The dancers took shape as ample bodied women flowing in the breeze.

"Magic," he breathed.

On the tale end of the smoke I could smell cinnamon. "They're lovely."

"Yes." A change in his tone made me look at him. Instead of admiring the dancing smoke women he was looking at me. Several dancers appeared again and this time it was a man and woman moving through the air. My eyes followed them- they were performing a simple waltz yet with such grace. The smoke rolled together with curves and swirls that it made the innocent dance appear sensual. Closing my eyes I enjoyed the smell of spices. When I opened them again I found that he had taken away his pipe and was leaning close.

"What are you doing?" I asked. The couch was meant for no more then two and I could put no space between us.

"Showing you the difference between being confident and cocky," he said simply. "Confidence allows me to do nothing more than lean close to you, knowing that you won't back away."

Cloves, nutmeg, mint- I could smell them all distinctly. "You don't know what I might do," I replied.

"I know. You're too curious and you want to see just how far I am willing to go. You won't budge," he then said sliding one of his hands onto my lap. His face hadn't moved an inch closer.

Part of me wanted to yell at him, fling his hand away, and storm out. Those delicious smells though held me captive. "And just what then are you so confident about- your intuition or your charm?"

"Both." The hand locked over my fingers. "They guarantee me that you won't be able to resist."

Alarms should have been wailing. My sarcasm should have been in full force. Why had I stayed in the room? What had been my original intentions? Those ridiculous smells- they begged me to stay and enjoy. My curiosity was prevailing. "What exactly will I not be able to resist?"

"A kiss." The words made me extra aware that my heart was racing and my breathing shallow. "A kiss to prove to both you and Bartholomew that you are mine. You are in my service, my kingdom, and under my control."

"Now that seems rather cocky."

The hand flexed. "Cockiness would have had me take it from you," he corrected. "and that is what I want to do. I want a kiss from you though. I want to feel your swollen lips and taste your very soul."

Power to charm- he had it. A heat wave rushed over me. He was achingly close.

"But I will not take what has not been freely offered. Rebekah," slight pressure came down on my hand. "ask me for a kiss."

All rationality was screaming. Some how my hormones had my common sense tied and gagged in some hidden chamber. This was not what I had intended to happen. I licked my lips again- I could taste the cloves. "Jareth I," the words choked.

"Ask it," came the stern whisper. His hand was crushing my fingers. The pressure of the grasp added to the intensity.

"Jareth I want a kiss." He moved closer. His lips were like a hot branding iron searing my mouth. I could feel the blood bumping through my fingers that he held captive. I tasted coco- rich coco that would be paired with warm milk. His tongue broke entrance between my lips like the devil's pitch fork. The influence was awful- I found myself wanting more than the kiss. I responded to him, letting him taste me.

Then he was pulling away, flicking the roof of my mouth with his tongue as he went. Lightly he bit my lip. "That is confidence." A triumphant smirk appeared.

My nerves were on end, but the words were out, "Cocky."

He unclasped my fingers and began to massage my forearm. "Girly don't make me do a comparative demonstration. Admit you enjoyed it and relish in the moment."

I should not be receiving such attention. My head was spinning. "No, you shouldn't be-" I started objecting.

His hand found the back of my head and his mouth was crushing my lips- in one smooth move he was kissing me again. Resistance was futile.

The air changed. The smell of spices was gone. It was as if the whole world was vibrating. Bells were ringing. It was as if a giant alarm was sounding. Abruptly he pulled away from me. Cursing he examined the air. "What- what's going on?"

"It's a summons- bad timing. Go to your room and stay there." So quickly his emotions changed. He was off the couch, heading for the door.

"Wait- a summons? You mean, a child is…?"

"A child is calling for me. Go to your room."

He was away.


	7. Chapter 7

"You have to remember!" I blurted out.

It had been two days since the kiss. The first day had been a return to normal service. After an uneventful breakfast, Jareth had taken me to the stables to help restore order. Soon the stable hands were about the proper care and maintenance of the horses. That was the extent of my first day back- no risks were being taken in regards to my voice.

I had a good, long talk with my subconscious self about control, propriety, and not letting the king so close to me. My job, my service, my mission was to help restore order to the Underground. As the new day began I decided that had the king indeed forgotten Sarah then it was my duty to help him remember her. I had to remind him. Allowing him to kiss me and be swept up into some romantic what-not was not/would not help. "So keep your wits about yourself," I said out loud in my chamber. I was preparing to join Jareth to visit a fairy swarm. "Don't allow him to charm you." I didn't bring the subject up and he didn't flirt- the morning passed successfully.

The fairy swarm that we had attended to had been reached by horse back. Finding the morning highly agreeable and our morning jobs done we agreed to stop for lunch outside. It was a lovely spot with a great fallen tree and grass for the horses. The tree served as a table which the king covered with a cloth. He set out cold chicken and water flasks. Part of me wondered why he was doing everything by hand- there hadn't been any use of magic the whole morning. Truthfully it made me a little wary.

"Drink." He offered me a flask.

I decided it was as good a time as any to test his memory. "Tell me," I said sitting on the ground and bracing my back against the tree. "have there been other mortals brought here? I mean aside from the ones who get wished away."

"A few over the years. We Fae are known to mingle with the humans."

"Mainly men or women?"

"Oh I suppose it has been an even amount." He stretched out over the length of the fallen tree. His head rested near mine.

"Any of them brought for romantic reasons- you know you fell in love with them or they with you?"

"My father took a mortal wife once," he said factually. "She was a lovely creature; refused to be turned though."

"Turned? You mean that she refused to become one of you?"

"Yes. Humans have such a hard time with the concept of immortality." He had twisted on his side, allowing one arm to fall casually on my shoulder. I could see his hand resting against me as natural as could be. "Constantly hung up on the idea of 'death till you part'- we Fae aren't meant to die."

I leaned forward and gathered my knees to my chest. His arm slid away. "Living forever and staying faithful to one mate- it would seem intimidating."

"Yet they still want us." I heard him swing him self up and around. Now he was sitting directly behind me.

"Well can you blame us? Your sort is rather alluring." I bit my own tongue the moment the words were out.

"Your sort is rather attractive as well."

I became aware of a slight movement running between my shoulder blades. He was sliding a finger down my back.

Rebekah, I yelled at myself, move away!

I shrugged forward, feigning at running my hands though the grass. Frantically I thought of another question. "So...have you ever brought anyone here?"

"No." He stood and walked around me. My eyes were wide and wondering as I watched him. I suppose he thought I was surprised because of my supposed opinion on his character. Nonchalantly he removed his riding cape and tossed it over the tree. "Aside from the darling little brats that come into my care, I have never brought a mortal to the Underground." His tone had been firm, unwavering, and full of conviction.

This complicated things. "Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "I should think I would remember if I had." He stood there tall and majestic the sun shining down on his wild hair. He was a king who had forgotten. "You my dear," he began, kneeling beside me. "are the first." His hand was at my cheek.

I could not turn away. I saw his face soften; saw the side of him he usually kept so well protected. I could not look away. At the moment all I wanted to do was pity his situation. Though I knew my sympathy would receive little gratitude I caught myself on the verge of expressing it. He leaned in closer. "No," I said firmly.

"Yes," came the challenge.

He smelt like fresh honey. "No."

One finger brushed my skin. "Give me one good reason not to."

"You have to remember!" I blurted out.

So there we tentatively sat. Neither one of us was moving away; neither one of us moving closer. My breathing was stilled; I was holding it in anticipation. His eyes flickered over my face. "Remember what?" he finally asked.

The first breath I took rushed oxygen into my veins. The second one brought adrenalin with it. Hysterics similar to my reactions the night he had come for me were occurring. My heart was racing, my hands shook. I shoved him off repeating, "No, no, no," and stood. "It all just complicates things," I mumbled to myself. He knelt there looking up at me. "I am not the first mortal you've brought here," I explained. Still he sat there. Was it shock? Confusion? Denial? Wringing my hands I went on, "Oh! You've forgotten!"

At those words a reaction finally showed: he furrowed his brow. Waving a hand he said, "Impossible! What ridiculous notion have you gotten into that head of your's?" He stood up.

"Ohhh! No notion!" He took a step near. I took a step away. "Please keep your distance- this is hard enough without you trying to flirt with me."

"I believe I was romancing you. Flirting is an entirely different approach."

"Regardless, I can't have it! My service to you is to remind the Underground. You, Jareth King of the Goblins, have forgotten!"

"And I'm telling you," he replied coolly. "that it is impossible. There are rules in play- as king I am not allowed to forget."

"What rules? What are you talking about?"

"More importantly, tell me what it is I have supposedly forgotten?"

My mouth opened, but no words would come. How does one tactfully remind someone about love? About the curves of a lover's body? About desires and passions? And when it came to Sarah, how does one remind another about defeat and loss?

I took a deep breath. "You brought a young girl here once. She was a mortal who had wished away her baby brother." He started to object. I hurriedly went on. "She ran your Labyrinth to win him back- a choice I'm sure you offer to most." He cocked an eye brow and nodded. "She won. You… you were in love with her."

Silence. An absolute, hear a pin drop silence. "In love?" he repeated. Slowly he sunk to the fallen tree. "Fae do not take love lightly," he added thoughtfully. He looked at me, square in the eyes. "How do you know this?"

"You told me that by reading aloud I reminded your kind. There's a book that concerns the story of you and this girl- I've lived your scenes a thousand times."

He leaned on his knees. "Now this, this complicates thing!"

Tell me about it, I thought to myself.

"Rules have been broken," he then said.

"What rules?" I asked. "You keep saying that it is impossible for you to need reminding- why is that?"

Sighing he replied, "It's one of those things I don't like talking about."

Crossing my arms, I quipped, "One of those subjects only things?"

I got a stern look for my tongue. He went on, "Remember what I told you about King Brighton?"

"Neighboring king who wants your territory?"

"That would be the one. He used a tactic that involved casting a spell on my kingdom; a spell that would cause havoc and stress. It would drive me to the point of wanting to relinquish my throne."

"A forgetting spell…He plays dirty."

"He plays like a Fae. The only condition was that I could not forget. Tampering with subjects is one thing; tampering with royalty is forbidden. Are you sure of yourself?" He stood.

My expression had softened again as my pity for the king returned. "Very. Know this Jareth: that I will do anything, perform to my best abilities to remind you."

He turned and retrieved his cape. "You mean you'll read yourself hoarse again."

"I'll do whatever," I insisted, aware that his tone was crisp.

Turning to face me he came quite near. He studied my face as if he were trying to discern something. Very faintly I could smell cloves on the air. I studied him as well, searching for what he desired. It was uncomfortable; near embarrassing. With the light on his hair I was struck by his regal air. His eyes were piercing me and they made my knees want to quake. Had I really just given opportunity to never feel his lips again? With a nod, he proceeded to inquire what I would need to help remind him.


	8. Chapter 8

That evening and the following day an unprecedented number of summons occurred. Most of the castle's staff was engaged in the process. I had told the king that really all I needed was my copy of the book The Labyrinth from my home to begin reminding him. The moment the third summons occurred though I knew it would not be for a few days before the book was retrieved. As I watched the staff running to and fro, I felt very out of place. I knew so little about a summons. The extent of my knowledge was that a child was calling out, or wishing to be taken. A parent could wish their children away as well. It was the Goblin King's duty to go to them the moment the words were uttered. Feeling want for use I sought out Bartholomew to offer any aid with the children. He seemed touched by my offer and led me away.

On the opposite side of the main court yard a long building had been constructed. Even as Bartholomew threw open the doors I felt a strong resemblance to a hospital. White walls with light colored wood floors. The very air smelt sterile. Elves, male and female, were hurrying along the hall. From the rooms elves in grey or blue robes were entering or leaving. One woman in a grey robe approached Bartholomew as we entered. "Doctor the new little one in room six insists on being returned home- he's worked himself into quite the state I'm afraid." Her face showed concern.

"Who said the words?"

"His mother." We stopped our hurried walk. My mouth gaped in surprise at the statement.

Scratching the back of his head Bartholomew asked, "Has the king returned yet?"

"No, not yet. The last summons was urgent; he left before he could properly accommodate the boy. He won't be calmed though, at least not by any elf."

He looked at me and smiled. "Fergi take Lady Rebekah here in to speak with him. I know not your exact purpose my dear," he added as I opened my mouth to protest. "but I do know your voice is special. You will help him."

I found myself being pulled towards room number six from which cries of "mommy" were issuing forth. Inside a sandy haired boy was crouching with his knees drawn to his chest. Caught between it all a teddy bear was being squeezed. Tears were streaming down the boy's face. As we entered he wailed, "I want my mommy!"

I edged Fergi back into the door way. "Can't we just send him back?" I asked uneasy with the situation.

"Only the wisher holds such power," she replied. "Saying the words was the only decent thing his mother ever did for him."

I eyed the boy. "Is it usually so traumatic?"

She sighed. "No, but the king usually is here to help them adjust."

Darling little brats, I thought to myself amused, indeed.

Fergi urged me to go speak with the boy.

I went back in. The boy, who could not have been any older than six, sniffed loudly and regarded me. Reading words written by another was one thing; talking of my own accord to help was another. The teddy bear shifted in his arms. "Are you here to take me back to my mommy?" the boy asked raising his head.

Ghads, if I lie I'll hate myself, I thought miserably, if I tell the truth he may hate me.

"Why do you want to go back to your mommy?" I asked.

"I take care of her. She needs me!" I got a vivid mental image of an inebriated woman passed out in bed, and the boy coming in to cover her. Another flashed of the boy taking care of a sink full of dirty dishes.

"Tell me little man what is your name?"

"Peter." His voice sounded so small.

I moved to sit on the far end of the bed. "Peter I have to tell you something: I know that you take great care of your mommy. You love her don't you?"

"Yes."

"Good, and you know what else? I think that," I ventured to touch his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. "you do such a great job of taking care of her, that you deserve a reward."

"A reward?" there was a slight change in his tone. "You mean like a prize for doing so well?"

I nodded smiling. I did not know where my words were coming from or how it was that he was calming down, but it was all working together. "If you stay here with me and all these other nice people, we will take care of you for a change." I reached to wipe his tears. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"No dirty dishes? No more making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" with each question he detangled himself a little more. "No more locking my bedroom door?"

I shook my head to each one. "Come here Peter." I offered him my arms. Embraced against me, I felt his little body relax. Remembering a time when being held, rocked, and even sung to could make the world go away I began to think of a song to sing. "Will you stay in our lover's story? If you stay you won't be sorry because we believe in you." He brought his teddy bear back to his chest. "Soon you'll grow so take a chance with a couple of kooks hung up on romancing." I felt him relax further into sleep. The fatigue of leaving home and crying had worn him down. Gently I laid him on the pillow and pulled the sheet around him. Granted it was early in the day, but he deserved the rest.

Fergi and Bartholomew had left me I discovered as I exited the room. The hall had also thinned of its nurses. Across the hall a man in blue robes came out of a room. "Excuse me," I inquired. "But would you know if King Jareth has returned?"

"Yes my lady he has. He is in the nursery. Let me escort you."

He led me down the hall. I noticed that the building broke into two sections forming an "L" shape. At the far end of this hall way a nursery had been arranged for the youngest children, below the age of one. My heart went out to the dears as I saw the numbers the building housed. At least ten female elves in grey robes attended to a baby each. Some where being rocked while others where fed from glass bottles. My escort led me to a secluded room where I found Fergi and Jareth attending to an infant. Fergi held a bottle of milk which she shook to produce drops on her wrist. Finding the temperature to her liking she passed the bottle to Jareth who encouraged the baby to suckle. I was struck by the scene. Perhaps his highness wasn't as harsh as he liked to believe. "Rebekah!" he exclaimed realizing my presence. "Come and meet the newest member of the kingdom."

I came to his side. He pulled the bottle back so I could see the baby's face. I noticed a pink cap on the head. "She's lovely. Does she have a name?"

He replaced the bottle. "This is Jane. When her eyes are open they're a beautiful blue. Here Fergi." He transferred baby Jane to the elf.

He then led me from the room indicating that we had much to discuss. Realizing the time we decided to return to one of his private chambers for lunch. Casually I mentioned how seeing him with a child in his arms was one of the last things I expected from him. "Last I recall you referred to the wished away children as 'darling little brats.'"

"And that they are!" he insisted smiling. "But I love each one of them and I care for them. I'm full of surprises Rebekah."

Once inside his private dinning room and the food having been ordered he changed the subject to that of his current predicament and the need for the book. We both decided that it was time to return to the Aboveground.

"It shouldn't take more than a few minutes really," I told him as we ate.

"This evening then shouldn't be an issue to go. What is today- Monday, right."

"What if there is another summons?"

"Pray that there isn't. The last two days have had one too many. You noticed how small baby Jane is? She had only been home from the hospital for a week. She wished herself away; parents hardly paid her any mind."

"I was with a similar child earlier." He looked inquisitively at me. "I offered my help and Bartholomew brought me to the children. I spent time with a boy named Peter."

"Ah, Peter… I had to leave again before he was properly settled."

I thought for a moment. "You like your job, don't you?"

"Well I don't like how thoughtless humans can be with their own off spring, but the children…They need someone to care for them. A child is defenseless, innocent, and pure; to not care for them is turn one's back on life its self. Eat your food," he then urged. "Tonight we leave."


	9. Chapter 9

I found myself holding onto the king. He had his cape and arms wrapped around me. In a flash of smoke and glitter we left the chamber where we had dined and appeared in my computer room. I went for my desk where, I thought, the book had been left. Finding it gone I went to my book shelf mumbling, "Oh no!" I scanned titles while the king looked on. I wasn't seeing it. "Confound it!" I exclaimed.

"Whatever is it?" he asked.

I moved to a lower shelf. "It's not where I left it. I'm not finding it either!"

He moved about the room- I heard him open a few drawers and pull open the closet.

"Don't be silly," I chastised as he clicked on the light illuminating clothes and boxes. "It wouldn't be in there."

He came out. "Where did you leave it?"

"It was here right by my computer." I went back to the desk and took another look. A pink post-it note was stuck to the lower left hand side of the monitor. It read, 'Hey Cookie, stopped by to say hello and found you out. I borrowed your copy of The Labyrinth- after all you've been pestering me to read it for years! Much love, Valery.'

"Valery!" I exclaimed.

"What? Who?"

I moaned. "The book isn't here. Valery, my friend, she borrowed it. This is great!"

"Then let's go get it from her."

"Valery is a night owl, she's never home. What time is it? Eleven o'clock. She's probably at some local club dancing the night away."

He shrugged suggesting indifference. "Alright, then let's go."

I eyed him in his poet shirt and breeches, and then indicated myself in a long dress and bodice. "We aren't exactly fit to be seen in public, much less a dance club."

"Now that can be fixed. Let me think, what year are we in here?"

Hesitantly I took a step back. "2007…why?"

"Modern clubbing attire for 2007!" With a dramatic wave of his hands, I saw his clothes melt away to reveal a black suite with matching vest. A high collared shirt, unbuttoned at the throat. He plucked at his cuffs adjusting his arms in the sleeves. His wild blonde hair was smoothed and textured. "Don't stare girly, I know I look good. Might I also add that you look quite tempting yourself."

I looked down expecting to still see my dress. Instead I found myself clad in a black bodice with lace embellishments, and a rather tight fighting mid thigh length black skirt. My hair was even done up differently. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. Vampire chic was the first thing that popped into my head. My chest was near falling out of the bodice.

"Class with sex appeal," he said looking over my shoulder.

"I don't think so!"

"It's your turn not to be silly. I was just in your closet- I know exactly what sort of clothes you would wear out dancing."

"I'm not wearing this out in public!"

"You look fetching! Where's the issue?"

"It's, it's," I was about to indicate my busting bosom, but stayed myself.

"I feel though," he went on ignoring my protests. "that perhaps I'm a little too conservative next to you." He snapped his fingers- his vest was gone and the white shirt was unbuttoned a little lower and un-tucked. "There."

"Fine. Let's…just…get this over with."

I was feeling extremely over exposed.

I knew Valery's usual haunts. She was the one person in this world that could tempt me from my writing and get me out. She had a passion for flashy clothes and dancing. With her I could be myself- we'd dance together. We would ignore any guys who tried to dance with us. That is we would ignore them as long as we were on the floor together. By her self, Valery was a regular cat on the prowl. She liked men, and she made them like her in return. On Monday nights she roamed the club, Room 101. Jareth made ready to transport us there, but I refused to let him make such a blatant display of magic. We took a cab.

Room 101 was a hot spot for the single crowd. I ignored the leering eyes and suggestive gestures and made my way to the bar. Beside me Jareth walked, keeping pace with me, one hand in his pocket the other swaying freely. The suite did do him justice. I tried to concentrate. 80s music blared from the speakers with a live DJ mixing on a platform. He was currently over lapping Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust" with Rick James' "Super Freak"- the crowd was in love with it. At the bar I looked for Valery. I spotted her chatting it up with another long time friend Eddie.

"Valery!" I called.

"Oh my, Cookie!" she leapt from her stool and gave me a hug. I turned and hugged Eddie as well. "You weren't home when I stopped by to see if you wanted to go out," she continued. "Come to think of it, you haven't been around much the last few days! Why ever not?"

As if on cue, Jareth was at my side placing a hand on the small of my back. Nervously I smiled at him. He smiled back- calm and collected.

"Oh I see now!" said my friend ogling him. "I'd be distracted as well with a man like this around. So do tell me who Mister Tall, Blonde and Mysterious is?"

I found myself fumbling. After all this was Valery the one girl who knew everything about me; she must be thinking that I was keeping a mystery man. "This is...uh...this is Jareth. Jareth this is Valery."

He took her hand and bent near. "Pleasure."

"Same here good looking," she replied. "And this is Eddie." The two men shook hands.

"Valery, actually I'm here to get something from you."

"What Cookie?" she took a sip from her drink.

"I need to have my copy of The Labyrinth back- it's for a project Jareth and I are working on."

"Of course! Oh!" she then exclaimed. "I left it at Samantha's! She's here you know- floating around with some new flavor of the week."

A new song was starting. The opening chords of Prince's "When Doves Cry" could be heard over all the people. Valery became instantly distracted and insisted we all dance. She grabbed Eddie and shoved me into Mr. Mysterious' arms. Jareth grinned and shrugged as if to say, "Why not?" He actually led me to the dance floor. Having never danced with anyone except Valery I found myself behaving like a shy little girl. Plus with the king so close I could smell a slight spice in the air.

_"Dig if you will the picture of you and I engaged in a kiss. The sweat of your body covers me. Can you my darling, can you picture this?"_

I started to move to the beat, tapping a rhythm out with my feet and slightly tilting. For a moment he imitated the same moves. I looked at him. He was still the Goblin King. Though now clad in modern attire the good breeding was hard to disguise.

_"Dream if you can a courtyard, an ocean of violets in bloom,"_

He caught my eye and came closer.

_"How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold)."_

His hands were on my waist. I felt my breath catch as he brought us close together. He hands began to guide me in a sway. His body followed suite, swaying in time with the music. He began to lead me in a very close dance. One arm held my back while another secured my arm, and he dipped me back very provocatively. As he raised me up our bodies meshed. He breathed on my skin. My lungs filled with cloves.

_"Touch if you will my stomach,"_ my hand involuntarily traced the length of his body. He responded with a quivering sigh. _"feel how it trembles inside. You've got the butterflies all tied up,"_

I snapped my hand away and nudged him off, turning my body away.

_"Don't make me chase you, even doves have pride."_

Hands and arms were at my hips and shoulders, drawing me back. It took so little convincing with his touch to get me to lean against him. A hand planted firmly on my hip forced me to sway in time with him. I laid my hands over his. One step, two steps- he had me facing him again. "Don't," he said as if the one word explained it all. Our movement was concentrated into a slight side to side rocking motion. I half expected him to try and kiss me again, he was so close.

_"Maybe I'm just too demanding, maybe I'm just like my father, too bold."_

Then he lifted my arms around his neck and slid his hands to my waist. I knew it was him leading and coaxing my steps and my movements. He rested his head against mine, cheek to cheek. To any of the other dancers on the floor, it probably seemed like a rather conservative demonstration on the dance floor. To me it was near erotic. His touch was a constant taunt to produce in me reactions that I constantly fought.

How much time had passed- five minutes? Five minutes and he had lulled me into his arms again. This time though I had gone willingly. He had the power to charm, but I also hadn't fought this time. The morning's revelation had produced stronger feelings in me. It was wrong; the whole thing was terribly wrong. I was interfering with true love. My interference was probably a mortal sin. At the moment I didn't care. He smelt divine. It had been many years since I had let any man hold me close or touch me with any emotion. It had been longer still since I had wanted it.

Another song had begun. The sounds of Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal" came pounding into my ears. I pulled away from him. I made a lame excuse about using the ladies room, and rushed away, leaving him on the dance floor. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I fled. I needed to be alone; regain control. I found the first empty stall and locked myself in.

Get a hold of yourself Rebekah, I thought leaning against the door, you came here on a mission- you need that book! You promised yourself that you would serve the kingdom and then be done with the whole mess. Now look at you- behaving like some young hormonal thing! Acting as if you've never been romanced before; never had sex before! You know how it is- they charm, make you want, have their fill, and then poof! They leave you! Remember why you dedicated yourself to your research in the first place. Alright so you saw him falling over a little baby today. He's doing his job, now you need to do your's!

I flushed the toilet pretending to have used it. Coming out into the wash room I found Valery was waiting for me. She smoked a cigarette sitting on the counter top. She winked at me. "So… you and Mr. Mysterious out there…what gives?"

"Nothing." I washed my hands. "There's nothing between us."

"Right, and I'm a virgin," she said sarcastically. "Cookie I've seen you dance; heck, I'm usually the one dancing with you, and what you two were doing out there on the floor wasn't nothing."

I dried my hands avoiding looking at my friend. "We were just dancing."

She began to prod again. "You two could make doves cry, if you know what I mean."

"Val, it's complicated ok?"

"You mean he's married?"

"No." I tossed the paper towel.

"Engaged?"

"No, not that."

"Seeing someone? An illegal alien? Gay?"

I shook my head, a laugh threatening my features. "No, despite how well he dresses he thankfully is not gay."

"Then what?" she snuffed what was left of her cigarette. I shrugged. "Well, whatever it is (and you can have your secrets) that man Jareth he wants you and wants you bad. Quite honestly, I'd consider giving it to him too."

"Valery!" I snapped. "You know how I feel about sex!"

"Cookie, you're no innocent. Just because one guy used you doesn't mean that they all will. I like Mr. Mysterious. I like the way he looks at you and touches you. I really like the way he dances!"

I let my guard down. "It was pretty hot."

She eyed me. "But there's nothing there."

I smirked. "It's a complicated nothing."

We left the room.

The two of us returned to bar to find Jareth and Eddie engaged in conversation. Jareth had a very amused look on his face, while Eddie looked overly animated and nearly ready to spill his drink. As we approached I heard Jareth chuckle. "Darling!" exclaimed Eddie when he saw Valery. "Come and love me, my dear!"

"Oh Eddie," she went to him. He rested his head on her chest. "You are stupidly drunk my friend."

"Pleasantly drunk," he corrected grinning.

"Where has Samantha gotten off to? Are you coherent enough to tell me that?"

He made a meowing noise. Jareth cleared his throat and spoke, "I believe the young lady took a gentleman home with her. She told us to tell you, not to worry, that she had a new flavor to try out."

I was mildly embarrassed with some of the people who moved in my circle.

Eddie toppled from his stool. Valery steadied him. "Oh Eddie! Let's get you to bed. I know I'll take you home with me. Mr. Mysterious- would you mind lending a hand?"

Jareth took the man's arm.

Eddie became aware of the man holding his arm. He looked from Jareth to Valery. "I'm not so drunk that I can't walk." He held his ground. "I'll just need maneuvering. Valery, darling, come to me and walk with me." Giggling at the next thing he mumbled she started to walk out with him with Jareth and I close behind.

We haled a cab and piled together in the back seat. The four of us were quite crammed. The drive was made even more trying with Eddie's constant and often suggestive drunk babbling. Valery ate it up as if it were candy just for her enjoyment. Awkwardly, I tugged at my skirt and hoped that Eddie's comments about female body parts weren't giving the king any ideas. Staggering inside the apartment, Valery and Eddie made for the bedroom. "Stop it!" I could hear her saying to him, though there was merriment in her voice. "Let me take care of Cookie and our guest first. Just wait here." She came back out to the living room. "It's almost two o'clock in the morning you two, why don't you just crash here? I can pull out the fold out bed from the sofa." We agreed. "Then tomorrow we can go get that book back for you."

I helped her clear away the sofa cushions. I noticed that Jareth stood aside watching us closely. Together we yanked the bed up and out.

"Thanks Val. Got some jammies to spare?" I then asked.

"Sure do. I think I may even have something for you Mr. Mysterious." She went back to the bedroom, where we heard Eddie whistle at her.

"They're old friends," I explained. The situation was making me nervous. There were way too many hormones flying about in the air.

"It doesn't bother me," he replied.

She returned with a night gown for me and a pair of pajama pants for Jareth. Having also brought out blankets and pillows she made her way back to the bedroom. I took the clothes and made for the bathroom. Valery popped her head out and called to me.

"What?"

"I have something for you. Come here." I met her at the door, half her body in and half of her body out. She slipped something smooth and square shaped into my hand. "Just in case."

I looked at the object- the word Trojan leaped out at me. "Valery!" I hissed.

"I said it was just in case. Go on! Good night Mr. Mysterious!"

He stepped into view. "Good night Valery!" he responded with a smile. She disappeared into the bed room and I went into the bathroom.

When I came out I found that Jareth had changed and was in the process of laying the sheet on the bed. I watched him for a moment- clad only in the pajama pants he was a sight to behold. My silly woman side came out from her depths and grinned enthusiastically at his bare upper body. I cleared my throat. "Hey there girly," he said. "There were two sets of sheets and blankets. You'll do well on the bed and I'll make do on the floor."

"Thank you."

"Though I'd much rather be on the bed."

We regarded each other. He seemed to have just realized that I was in a night gown.

"Umm… here's a pillow for you," I offered.

Silent he went to the far side of the couch where he had made a pad. Turning out the lights we both lay down. Quite unexpectedly we heard laughter from the other room.

I lay there my imagination running over and over the image of him standing there shirtless. I fought against the feeling it gave me. He was so easily available to me; on the floor just waiting. What Valery said was true- not every man was a user. Turning on my side I sought to feed my hormonal thoughts into something more productive. What had he said earlier, this situation "didn't bother me" and what he said a few days prior, "Fae don't take love lightly." All of it added together into a very odd, unclear sum. If love was important to a Fae then why run the risk of loosing love by dangerously (how did he put it?) "romancing" another woman? Then I though, well aren't the Fae a little promiscuous any how? Terribly unclear, terribly odd.

"Jareth?" I called out softly.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose so."

"The other day while we were in the woods together, you told me that Fae don't take take love lightly. What did you mean by that?"

"I meant just what I said. We Fae don't fall in love easily."

We fell silent. I thought of another question. Cautiously I edged towards the edge of the mattress. His eyes were closed and his arms cradled under this head. "Jareth."

"Yes Rebekah?" He kept his eyes shut.

"How many women have you been with?"

He inhaled. "A few."

"Did you love any of them?"

His eyes opened. I was asking very personal questions, I knew that, and I expected him to show some sort of irritation. His eyes were relaxed though. "Did I ever bed this Sarah? Well then, no I didn't love any of them. I cared about them as fellow Faes and treated them with respect."

"So were they willing partners then? I mean, did they know you didn't love them?"

"Sex doesn't always have to involve love Rebekah." He tone was serious. He paused and then added, "And yes they were all willing."

I moved away from the edge of the bed and lay on my back. "Sex without emotional attachment- sounds hallow and false to me."

I heard him shift. "Sex is a glorious thing girly. It's a pleasurable act of giving and receiving." We heard movement in the next room over. "It doesn't seem to bother your two friends."

"There's emotion there," I explained. "They've known each other a long time; they used to date you know."

"Ah, but do they love each other; the sort of love that generates devotion and ideas of marriage?"

I sighed, not answering.

His face appeared at the edge of the mattress. "Tell me Rebekah, when was the last time you allowed yourself the pleasure of a man's touch?"

"That's personal," I replied curtly.

Even in the dark I could see his eyes narrow. "Better still when was the last time you wanted it?" His voice had dropped a few octaves.

I wanted to say, 'When you had me on the dance floor, by golly, I wanted it and I wanted you to give it to me!' My mouth had gone quite dry though.

"It has been a long time." His tone suggested that he knew something about my past; something that put him at an advantage.

"How do you know that?" I asked timidly.

"Your body radiates your desire, your need. It cries out to be put to good use. I wish to the moon above that you would let me fill your need." He was on his knees leaning over the bed.

I felt myself glued in place against the mattress. "Without love or emotion, it is just a selfish act. I,"

He cut me off. "No, no, no girly it is not. I want to give you pleasure. I want to entice responses from you." With hardly any sound, cringes or squeaks from the springs, he was on the bed, hovering as it were on his hands and knees just beside me.

So there we stayed ourselves. I couldn't move. He was so near that I could feel his body heat. Every fiber of my body was screaming for him; a sensation that had long been dormant. I struggled to keep my mind from reeling in the feeling of it all. His scent hung so heavily in the air I could literally taste the tangy sweetness of cloves in my mouth. Placing his arms on either side of me he leaned over my face. "Let me…" he urged softly. When I offered no response, he stooped his face to touch forehead to forehead with me.

"I can't." It was a lame attempt at a refusal.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. I've been down this road before. You don't love me."

"Oh, but I love your body- the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts; your eyes are so full of life and your mouth so fiery, I long to taste you again."

Furrowing my brow, I attempted to refuse again, "I will not do this!"

"Stubborn," he quipped.

"Sex fiend," I retorted.

I felt his breath. He raised his head. "Prude!"

"Pervert!"

One of his hands clutched my arm. "I make my offer one last time." He stooped again, this time to kiss my lips. It was an unfair attack. I struggled, knowing that distance would be safer. My hands made contact with his chest and I shoved.

"I don't want to be hurt again!" I exclaimed louder than I intended. I wiggled my self free of him and sat up. I used his puzzled expression to my advantage. "You say that you can smell my desires. What you don't smell is what is in here!" I pointed at my head. "To you it's just about satisfying the physical; your kind can appreciate a good romp without any emotional involvement. I can't! The first time I gave myself away I thought he loved me. Shoot- he told me he loved me. When I learned differently I felt used, hallow, empty!" I was near yelling at him. I strove to lower my voice. "Do you have any idea what that does to a woman's psyche?" I flung the sheets aside and turned towards the opposite side of the bed. Realizing that I was crying I covered my face with my hands.

He came and sat next to me. "Let there be no misunderstanding between us then. You deserve the pleasure Rebekah."

"No. I'll stand with propriety, thank you. For my own sake, as well as Sarah's I cannot concede. I'd drive you mad with my desire for more than the physical."

"I would never forcibly take you girly. Your emotions have stayed my intentions… for now." I shrewdly eyed him. "Know this and understand that there will be a day when you come willing to me."

I wiped my eyes and snorted. "Cocky."

He turned to crawl back across the bed. "This time you say rightly. The hour is late and you need sleep." He was at the other side. He stopped just before he dropped back to his pad on the floor. "Good night."

Feeling a nauseous mixture of emotions I lay back down and sought sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

The following day I awoke to find Valery moving about in the kitchen. I could smell coffee in the air. Peeking over the edge I saw that the king was still asleep. As I looked at him I gnawed my lip wondering to myself if I had the made the right choice. I was resolute in my decision, but the prospect of release drove me to question my refusal. Despite all of my past and the empty relations with another man I knew deep down that sex could and should be a pleasurable experience. I also knew myself- my ultimate wants- and a good romp would not satisfy. My desire for love, for devotion, would drive the king away from me. At present 'away' was the last place I wanted him. "Why do you have to be such a complicate nothing?" I whispered. I left to see Valery.

I found her sipping a cup of coffee in the kitchen. She was pondering the back panel of Coco Puffs' cereal box. She smiled at me as I entered. "Hello Cookie," she said.

I yawned. "Good morning. Pour me a cup-o-jo please."

"Absolutely! Even though," she said glancing at the digital clock on the microwave. "it is almost good afternoon."

Realizing the time I tried not to fret. "We'll need to go get that book from Samantha's soon." She handed me a mug.

"Right the book for you and Mr. Mysterious. Speaking of Mr. Mysterious did you…and he…?"

"Did we what?" asked a male voice.

Valery and I started to see Jareth in the kitchen door way, in all his shirtless glory. My silly little woman side came out in full force and I found myself smiling at him. Valery and I exchanged an awkward glance.

"You know," she started. "sleep well?"

"Ah! That we did!" With a mischievous grin, he came near to me. Bracing one arm against the counter, he leaned in close. All that separated us was my raised coffee mug. "If you must know Valery, Rebekah here was an absolute jewel last night."

"Oh really?"

"And an absolute lady," he then added taking my mug away and drinking from it.

"Yeah, sounds like a nice dream," I told him nudging him away.

"The sort of dream I'd like to have more often," he teased back not moving.

I hadn't moved either. "You're despicable," I snapped.

"And you're delicious," he responded with a smile.

"Do you enjoy making other people uncomfortable?"

"No, I only enjoy making you uncomfortable." He sat the mug down on the other side of the counter. He stood both arms braced around me. "Is the subject too sensitive girly?"

"The 'subject' didn't even happen."

"Ah, but you wish it had."

"That's cruel."

"That's true."

"Ok! It just got way too hot in here!" Valery had her arms raised in a defensive manner with an exasperated expression. "Part the waters you two and let me out of the kitchen!"

He stepped away from me to allow her to pass. The door bell rang and I was saved from any further banter.

Who should be at the door, but the one person who we were desperately seeking- Samantha. Clad in a pink velour suit complete with to-go coffee and a giant tout (referred to as "the purse") bag, she came in rambling about last night's experience with her new flavor. Descriptive words like "smelly", "rude", and "waist" came out of her mouth referring to everything from his morning breath to the way he used her bathroom. I gave the king my best 'you hear those words, that's how I feel about you right now' look and went out to say hello.

"Oh hey, Rebekah," said Samantha. She was currently digging through the depths of her bag.

"Cookie, Sam has your book with her," explained Valery. "At least she thinks she does."

"Ghads! I know it is in here some where!"

The king and I took turns changing while she rummaged for the book.

"Found it!"

"Thanks Sam. All right Valery we really must be going now."

We said our good byes.

I lived all two blocks from Valery's little town house. I hit the side walk, the book in one hand and my high heeled shoes in the other. Beside me Jareth walked with his jacket thrown over his shoulder. To the cars that passed us we looked like any other night owls returning to the nest to rest. I was doing my best at refocusing my mind and re-committing myself to my mission. We would return to the Underground, I would remind the king and any other subjects and then wash my hands of their world. As to my book, my novel, I would finish it and then wash my hands of all things fantasy. In a little over a week I had gotten myself in a silly mess, had crossed paths with Fae, and all due to what- a fixation on the realm of fantasy. I turned the corner towards my apartment. As we approached my door he commented, "So this is what your place looks like in the day light."

"You would perform voyeurism at night," I said sarcastically.

"It's the most interesting time to," he replied following me through the door.

I engaged the bolt. Massaging my forehead I said, "Let's just get back to the Underground and get this business over with."

"I'm rather hungry." He began to walk further in to my apartment.

"You've got servants who can cook a full on feast for you back in the Underground. Let's go!"

"No," he said seeking out my kitchen.

Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't dressed in his royal robes, or maybe it was the fact that we were in my world, or better yet maybe it was just low blood sugar due to having not eaten, but I let loose on him. "You know- you are a right royal pain."

He opened my fridge. "So says you. What makes me such a pain?"

"One moment you're charming and a gentleman, and then next a self-centered jerk."

He pulled out a tuber ware container filled with fruit. "Any good?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yes. Here's a fork."

"Alright so I'm a self centered jerk, and you my dear are a stubborn, defensive twit. Eat some. That boyfriend of your's must have done quite the number on you."

I took a bite of melon. "And what's your excuse?"

"Years of living without proper discipline."

"You know that I'm just trying to do my job, the job that you hired me to do."

"I know that's part of it."

He offered another bite. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I also know that you're afraid of me."

I swallowed and crossed my arms. "I'm afraid of you? Right!"

"Yes you are." He pointed the fork at me.

"Pshaw! I have no problem standing up to you or arguing with you. You're the one who has fears."

"Ha!" He set the tuber ware aside. He took two steps near me. Without thinking I took two steps away. "Point proven."

"What a strange fantasy you must live in that head of yours."

"If you weren't afraid, if you weren't defensive, if you weren't a twit- you would let me close to you."

"I'm not afraid." He closed the gap between us. I stood my ground. What was I trying to prove? And who was I trying to prove it to? He leaned in as if to kiss me. I flinched.

"There!" he said accusatorily.

"I have a job to do."

"Ah yes, your job. It's a convenient excuse, isn't it?"

We stood there, our eyes flashing over the other's face. I felt as if he were trying to size me up or something; just waiting for me to walk away. I willed myself to stay. I wasn't afraid of him.

"Just what exactly do you think I'm afraid?" he quite suddenly asked.

We had been brutally truthful to each other up until now; there was no reason to stop. "You're afraid of being in love."

There was one of those moments where a revelation causes a silence. It's a moment where all you can hear is your breathing. I inhaled cloves. I wonder if he smells me?- my mind flickered the question in a split second.

His hand was at my cheek. "No more so than you are girly." We were kissing.

There wasn't a struggle. There weren't any demands made. If a kiss could be a release; if a kiss could be therapeutic; then this was a soul cleansing. I poured all of my anxiety into his mouth; moving my lips to say wordless things. I felt him pour right back into me. It was so unlike our first kiss. I gave to him; he gave to me. I received from him; he received from me. It was an intensely pleasurable release. For the first time since he had come into my life, he was neither Fae nor man; he was just Jareth.

The kiss broke and we lingered over each other lips. He then pulled me into his arms and held me. Any further and we would have hurt each other. I had proven I wasn't afraid; he had offered me a safe release. "Promise me something Rebekah," he said softly. "When all is said and done, promise me you won't change. Stay stubborn; stay fiery."

"Alright."

"I may be a jerk, I may love harassing you, but… don't ever let anyone take away your fire."

I pulled away from him to look at him. "You get any more sentimental and I'll forget all about my job. You're a complicated one Jareth."

"I'm only as complicated as you want me to be." He let me go. "Shall we away?"

"Hang on- where does this leave us?"

"It leaves us right here. Like you said, you have a job to do." He paused. "You're not ashamed of what happened are you?"

"Oh no. I don't know whether to think that you healed me, or I healed myself."

"Neither one of us are healed girly."

"Well, maybe not, but you did force me to look at myself."

"Consider it a returned favor. Come along, the Underground awaits our return."


	11. Chapter 11

There was another patient waiting in the physician's quarters. We had not been in the Underground for five minutes when a servant came knocking on the chamber door. There was a dwarf waiting, who seemed quite vexed over his predicament. "He sits with the physician," explained the servant. "with a shovel in one hand and a flower pot in filled with violets in the other."

"Why does he hold them?" I asked.

"He won't say, my lady."

The king and I went down at once. Inside Bartholomew's examining room we were more accurately informed- the dwarf was Hoggle and he tended to the king's gardens. He sat near the room's divider quite gloomy, near tears. From across the room I was once more struck with the similarities between Henson's movie and what was real. Had I not have been living in the very Underground for the past week I should have thought I was looking at a cleverly done puppet. The dwarf was all deep wrinkles and bushy eyebrows. Hanging from his hip were his precious jewels. "Golly," I whispered in astonishment.

"You know of this one?" the king asked.

"Yes, and it's all most deja vu! He's Hoggle."

"Higgle, Hoggle- either one. Work your magic Rebekah."

I walked to the divider and pulled the curtain aside to clearly see the dwarf. "Hoggle?" I asked tentatively.

Big brown eyes looked up at me. "Yes, that's me. Who are you? I asked for the king."

"And I'm here. Hello Hedgewart!" called Jareth with an amused smile.

"It's Hoggle!" He knocked the spade against the pot.

"At least he hasn't forgotten his name."

I gave him a stern look, all the while thinking to myself how uncanny the similarities were. Either Jareth had dictated to one of the Henson crew (Smith, Froud, or Henson himself), or one of the crew had been touched. The name bickering was a staple harassment between Hoggle and Jareth.

"Hoggle," the king was now saying in a very patient tone. "this is Rebekah Aura Clysdale- she is my guest and skilled at helping those who have forgotten."

The dwarf considered me. "Are you trying to tell me that this pretty young thing, this mortal is silver-tongue?" he asked.

"I am," I answered for myself.

Bartholomew gasped very quietly.

"Dear me Bartholomew," said the king looking at him. "don't me tell me you didn't know about her power? I should have thought you had figured it out all ready."

"I was suspicious… with the way you had calmed Peter…A silver-tongue mortal." He seemed quite in awe of me at the moment. His attention was flattering.

"Please Hoggle, tell me what happened?" I asked. And whether or not you're a midget in a costume, I thought amusedly to myself.

"Well," he started his voice so old yet so colorful. "I was going about my usual morning duties- had my wheel barrel all loaded up. I was all ready to go down to the garden. So there I found myself, looking at the flowers and shrubs- pot in one hand," he raised the pot. "And spade in the other," here he paused and raised the tool. "When all of the sudden I couldn't remember what I was about. Was I about to steal the king's plants? Or was I tending to them?"

Even as he was speaking I had begun flipping through the book, looking for anything that would remotely help. I read a passage that confirmed he was in the king's employment. Still he looked at me with a sense of being lost.

"Is it working?" asked the physician anxiously.

The king silenced him.

"All right," I began. There was nothing else in the book that would help. "I… I need papers; something that describes his employment. Send a servant for it then!" A servant was called- we could hear the clamoring as the message was passed along and the item retrieved. A breathless goblin returned with the contract of employment. I unrolled the scroll. "Let me see… here Hoggle. Listen to this: Hoggle of the dwarf clan Diashane is hereby contracted to the goblin realm, The Underground under employment to Jareth King of the Goblins as an indentured servant." I paused and glanced at his face. "His employment is as follows: to see to the layout, care, and maintenance of the royal gardens."

"I's a gardener?"

"Failure to perform his duties will result in the head of Hoggle being dipped in The Bog of Eternal Stench followed by a parading down the Goblin City main street," I looked up again. "for all to smell."

The spade struck the side of the pot again. "Yep that's the deal we made. I remember now. A fine way of arranging an indentured servitude," he pointed accusingly at the king.

"You were not so ungrateful when I rescued you," replied Jareth coolly.

This was a part of the story I was not familiar with. "Hold on- Jareth you rescued Hoggle?"

"I did indeed."

"Anyone would be right ready to make an agreement when one finds themselves at the mercy of a Trow. Ugly beasties, they are, and the one who had me was ready to make me a meal." He seemed to scowl. To me he said, "I see he's got you on a first name bases already."

"Never you mind what she calls me," Jareth warned him. "Are you ready to do your job or does the Bog suite your fancy these days?"

"Huh! I remember now! Rebekah I'm very thankful for your words. I'm going to plant a special garden for you, even if I have to dig up an existing one!" He smiled the lines in his face stretching.

"Not my rose garden at least," chided Jareth.

The dwarf waved him off with an annoyed "Bah!" He went on his way, promising the garden before the week was up. Mentally I noted that out of all the creatures of the Underground, Hoggle would know the most about Sarah.

The king and I left an astonished Bartholomew who seemed stuck on the issue of my ability and kept repeating his wonder and gratitude. Jareth asked me to join him in his study, "I have some business to attend to, but we can discuss my…predicament in between affairs." His study was a masculine display of dark woods and rich colors. A large desk occupied one end while book shelves lined the walls. A leather arm chair and side table occupied a far corner. Beside the desk he waved his hand and a cushioned chair appeared. Having seated me he sat behind the desk. "I have a few correspondences to see to," he explained breaking the seal on one of many letters that lay on the desk. "Oh well a few are trade interests, one or two gala invitations (which I make a point to always decline), and the rest are reports from the border patrol." He broke another seal and became quite distracted by its contents.

"Haven't you any advisors, aids, or counselors?" I asked.

He chuckled. "I alone manage my kingdom girly." And then hastily adding, "If you so much as think the word 'cocky' I'll have you dipped in the bog!"

"Right along with Hoggle, I suppose."

He rang a bell. Taking pen to a clean sheet of paper he replied, "You two would keep nice company for each other. See here, I have my captains and my scouts who aid me in protecting and securing the land, but I make all of the decisions." He had started another note when a servant arrived. Addressing the goblin he said, "This note is to be delivered to his Lord Byron immediately. Have a duplicate sent to Captain Broag as well." He was setting his seal upon the papers. "This one is to be delivered to King Brighton. Have Squeak deliver it and wait for his response. That is all." The servant dismissed he leaned back in his chair. His eyes went far away. "A war is brewing girly. Can you remind me in time?"

"If we start immediately. Are you resigned to your predicament?"

He nodded. His eyes came back to the present. "All right silver-tongue, remind me."

I started with a very simple approach. I needed to assess just how much had been forgotten. I needed to know if it was just Sarah- her presence, her body- that was blocked from his memory or if anything remotely connected to her was gone as well. "Just answer me a few questions." I licked my lips. "Can you, or do you use crystal orbs?" With a little flourish of his left wrist a dainty bubble appeared in his hand. He balanced it on a finger, juggled it effortlessly from hand to hand before blowing it free. "Lovely. Now do you like peaches?" He looked incredulously at me. "Just answer the question."

"Yes, I am rather fond of peaches."

"Do crystals, peaches, and women conjure any memories?"

"All together?"

"Yes."

He brought fingers to his lips. "Why yes, they do actually; some rather delicious ones." His expression had gone rather dreamy. He then added, "But none of the woman were named Sarah."

I slumped back in my seat. "Are you sure?"

"Quite. The ladies' names were Flora, Fauna, and Merriweather. Now I'm curious what I supposedly did to this Sarah- all of the sudden your face looks down fallen."

"The peaches and crystals were an important part of the memory." I paused considering how much more to reveal. If he was going to remember…"You offered her, her dreams in the form of an enchanted peach."

"Did I?" He raised his eye brows. "I gather she rejected my offer?" I nodded. "Let me get this supposed memory straight: I fell in love with a mortal girl named Sarah. This same Sarah also wishes her baby brother away. I give her fair chance to win him back, but because I am so overly consumed with passionate feelings for her I offer her an enchanted peach filled with her dreams in the hopes of… what? Convincing her to stay with me?"

"That's about right."

"And she still managed to refuse me? What a strong will this woman must have!"

"Well, you were using her baby brother as leverage. Love is stronger than even magic."

"Me- use a child for profit? I am offended!" He seemed genuine.

"It's all here in the book." I raised it. "She wished him away; you offered her the opportunity to win him back, all the while taunting her with the boy."

"Let me see the book." He was now leaning forward in the chair. "I am very agitated that some mere mortal would make such claims about me- use a child as bate? Taunt her with him? I should like to know exactly what has been written about me." I with held the book. "I said give it here."

"Don't you think being reminded bit by bit might be more tolerable?"

"No. I want the shock of knowing who I really am." He snatched it away.

His reaction to my little revelations about his forgotten memories concerned me. The book would indeed send him into shock. I thought about his constant desire to harass and even declare himself "cruel." In contrast I saw him holding baby Jane and heard his proclamation against ever using a child. He was thumbing through the book, reading passages at random. I told him that reading that would not do him any good. "It is no different then you selecting specific items to remind me of. I get the same message whether I hear them from you or read them myself." He turned another page. Having read a fairly lengthy passage he told me that I should join him again this evening. He was going to read the entire book, cover to cover. I wanted to object; advise against it. Even as I opened my mouth he had turned his chair away from me and begun reading again. I left him feeling awfully anxious.

I spent the next few hours roaming between the castle and the outside grounds. The time passed slowly. Evening was technically only three hours away. I took tea by myself on a veranda. Holding the cup between my two hands I worried about him remembering. Would reading the book be enough to bring back the memory of Sarah to him? Would it be enough to end my service in the Underground? The conviction I had thought so well grounded faltered. Should it be enough, then all would be over. A random goblin scuttled across the veranda. There had been a time not so long ago that I would have shrunk from the creature. Now I even smiled at him. I sipped my tea.

Then I thought about Jareth. His attentions were intense and exciting. The more I fought, the more he pursued. The more he pursued, the more I wanted to give in. It was a twisted form of satisfaction on both sides. My silly woman side came alive with anticipation from his pursuits. Never before had I been sought after, and he did it with such vigor. Past relationships had been convenient, even expected at the time. My eye lids slid shut and I felt the king's lips once more on mine. The memory of this morning hit me full force- that had been a kiss! It hadn't been some namby-pamby-I-like-you kiss; no, that had been a let's-make-doves-cry kiss. I had liked it. Screw the consequences, I had liked it.

I felt a twinge of guilt.

The memory came again. This time it brought with it all of the physical attributes- my lips were warm and my knees turned weak. My imagination played on my hormones and the memory morphed into more of a day dream. His touch was more enticing and lips more demanding. Lost in my fantasy I encouraged the scene. Someone whispered in my ear, "What do you see?" The voice came from within the dream.

I thought of the song that had been at the club. "I see animals striking curious poses." The voice encouraged me to say more. "I see us."

"And what are we doing?"

The voice was smooth and calm. "We are kissing." Without speaking again the voice left a question in the air- there was more going on than kissing. "We are nearly making love to each other." The realization didn't bother me. Someone guided my hands to set aside my tea cup, only to grasp them together.

"And how does this make you feel?" asked the voice, just a whisper.

The day dream continued to play out, skipping and repeating as my mind let my imagination fill in the gaps. "Desirable… like a woman…"

The kiss became intensely real. I could taste cloves. The invisible hands were touching me and clinging to me. I clung back. He groaned into my mouth. "Jareth," I gasped for breath.

His fingers were on my cheek. "Dream no more," he said in between kisses. "I am here."

I pulled my head away, but stayed my arms and hands. My lips fought to form words.

He nuzzled against my neck. "I don't remember her Rebekah. I don't!"

"Oh Jareth!"

"I read the whole book! She is no where inside me. But you… you are here. Come to me!"

Was he begging? Was he so desperate for sex? Or was I so important to him? The lines of reality and fantasy had blurred. His fingers were caressing me, sending shivers up my spine. "Oh, you are cruel!" I said.

"That I am, but there is no denying your feelings now. Come to my chamber with me." He had dropped his head to rest of my chest. I could smell his hair. We were so intimately situated. I could not deny to myself how good it felt. The twinge of guilt again bit me. The day dream was chased off by a vision of Sarah desperately looking for an owl to perch on her window sill. "And then what?" I asked. I touched his hair.

"Can't we worry about that when it happens? Isn't the now enough?" He raised his head to look at me.

"No. True I cannot deny what I feel- you saw into me. How you did, I don't want to know. Let's strike a deal you and me."

"You would strike a deal with the devil?"

"You are no devil. You live by the old code- free to tempt and lure, but unable to take what isn't freely offered. You said so yourself. Let me do my job; let me exhaust every possible angel to remind you. Should I succeed you will have your memories and I will be returned home."

He interjected. "And should I not remember you will stay here and be mine. I will make no other bargain."

I considered it. "Sounds like a win/win situation. In the mean time you will behave like a gentleman and stop overtly pursuing me. I will make no other bargain," I warned as he began to object. "If you are sincere, you will agree."

He leaned away for me. He bit the corner of his lip. "Fine. Here wear this." He reached under the collar of his shirt and produced a half moon pendant. "It'll be the sign of the agreement."

"You always wear this."

He nodded. "It is the only thing worthy to up hold our oaths." He put it around my neck.


	12. Chapter 12

"Don't go on- this not the way!"

The king and I were in the under belly of the Labyrinth. I had chosen a private moment in the relationship of Sarah and Jareth to read out loud. For extra security I had insisted on physically being where the memory had taken place. Large boulders supported the ceiling- they had eyes and mouths that leered and spoke. They were known as the false alarms: intimidating creatures to confuse you amidst the turns and twists. One large face bellowed at us as we passed. Upon realizing who he addressed he quickly apologized, "Your majesty, forgive me. I did not know it was you."

"Glad to see you still remember your lines," said Jareth leaning against the boulder.

"We may not get many who pass this way, but my duty shall never be forgotten sire." The face seemed to beam with pride.

"See that it isn't. Carry on then."

As we moved away the face announced the presence of the king and guest. "She bears the moon pendant!"

We passed at least thee more faces who all hailed the king. Each voice spoke with a different character- some indifferent others eager to use their voices. All of them sought out their king's approval. "See how well we've kept the tunnels!" one face called out.

"Live long the most gracious Fae king!" called another.

Jareth smiled pleased. "Isn't loyalty a grand thing?" he mused moving into another passage.

Ego stroking isn't too bad either, I thought hiding a smile.

"Just through here," he was saying. "is the side passage to where we store the Cleaners; an odd place for a confrontation if ever there was one."

"It was one of many confrontations." I took out the book.

He walked around the little room. "I haven't been down here in ages…"

"Shall we begin?" I asked.

My voice had yet to fail me; still I wanted to be absolutely sure of his remembering. "Some slight changes need to be made. First you must change your clothes." He cocked an eye brow. "You need to be wearing fitted grey breeches and a brown leather jacket." Without warning he put a hand to my forehead. I felt the air change; it tingled my skin. When I opened my eyes his clothes were exact replica from the movie. He asked for approval. "Down to the very gloves! You pulled that right out of my head?" My fingers felt the place he had touched.

"Need anything else?" He was grinning.

"An antique clock with thirteen numbers wouldn't hurt." I felt his hand again. An ornate clock appeared suspended in the air. I counted the hour marks- there were thirteen. I began to read the passage.

Sarah and Hoggle were in the presence of the Goblin King. They were both afraid. While Hoggle simpered before him, Sarah feigned confidence. Her mother had instilled in her the skill of acting. With every look the king challenged her and devoured her. He threatened Hoggle, "If I thought for one second that you were betraying me I'd be forced to suspend you head first into the Bog of Eternal Stench." The dwarf had graveled and he had been kicked away. Now the king was testing Sarah- just how valiant and determined was this delightful mortal? More importantly how was she enjoying his Labyrinth?- "It's a piece of cake." His eyes made her knees shake, but she acted cool just like her mother had taught her to. In response one hour was stolen from her. If his Labyrinth was so easy then she could it only twelve hours.

"Then you brought the Cleaners upon her," I summarized. His back was toward me with his hands clasped. I could actually hear the clock ticking.

From behind us the voice of one of the alarms came, "What are they doing in there?"

"Shh!" came another.

"I was just curious," the voice sounded sullen.

"Then shut up and listen!"

"Jareth?" I asked when he still made no response.

He slowly turned surveying the room. "The Cleaners are around one corner and the False Alarms around another- it's as if the author had the blue prints to my domain." His eyes came to me. For a moment I saw something very real, very soft pass through them. Then it was gone. He shook his head.

I bit my lip. "Is there anything about this place that you remember; any memories at all?"

He stood in the way that led back to the boulders. "I used to play in these passages as a child. The stories I could tell you!" He smiled a genuine one at that. "But I never brought anyone here, nor do I fancy myself meeting anyone here." Bracing an arm against the stone wall he leaned towards me much as he would have done to Sarah. It made for a very good view of his body. His long, masculine, feline like… I began flipping through the book to avoid distraction. "Now what?" he asked.

I shrugged. "We try another scene."

Bells began ringing; a summoning. I started. "Duty calls!" He transported me back to the castle. Once there he was gone to the Aboveground.

I found myself wandering the gardens keeping the veranda near my sight at all times. Everything about Jareth's realm bore traits of a maze, a labyrinth. One's thoughts even take unexpected twists and turns, I thought to myself. Best keep a familiar land mark within eye shoot to not get lost. Ahead the path widened and a pagoda came into view. Off the side of the path there was a wheel barrow and garden tools. From amidst the shrubbery Hoggle's head appeared. He smiled as I approached. "Greetings Lady Rebekah!" he called. "Come to see the progress of your garden now?"

"No," I laughed. His hands were covered in soil and he smelt of earth. "I just happened to wander out to the right place."

"Ah! Well come and have a look-see then. We just finished the pagoda this morning." He veered towards the erection.

"You built this for me?" I could not hide my amazement. "This is beginning to look more like a monument, than a garden."

"You've done the Underground a world of service. The others, the goblins, told me what you have done here. Jareth- he chose a fine silver-tongue mortal." He patted my arm in approval.

"Why thank you Hoggle! Though I must say I feel unworthy of your praise- he also picked an ignorant mortal." He gave me a quizzical look. "I was completely unaware of my ability until the king came a-knocking."

"Really?" Those bushy eye brows were raised up. His eyes seemed to dart around as if he was checking to make sure we were alone. "So, uh, do you know how many times the king came to you?"

"Well I only know for sure of twice."

He scoffed. "Twice!"

"You know the king won't really discuss with me how he found me." Those eyes darted again. This time I looked around as well- no one or thing down either side of the path. "Or for how long he watched." He seemed to have grown a little distressed over the topic, and began ringing his hands. I pressed him, "Hoggle what do you know?"

"Nothin'!" he exclaimed. "Pardon me for not wanting to incur the king's wrath, my lady, but I must say I know nothin'." He picked up his shovel and made ready to turn away.

I sensed his intentions. "Now see here you asked the question!"

He sighed with his whole body. "Just a question; no harm in asking questions."

"Answer me one thing Hoggle- is there really a war brewing?"

"Yes betwixt Jareth and Brighton."

"Did Brighton cast a forgetting spell that could only be lifted by a silver-tongue mortal?"

"That would be answering more than one thing." He turned to face me again. Coming near he answered, "Yes." He put a hand on my arm. "You are here for more than one reason. Were you in harm's way I would tell you more, but I's won't go meddling in the king's business." He then turned to leave, whistling as he went.

"Is there a chance for me to be in harm's way?"

He continued to whistle. I watched him tackle a patch of earth with the shovel. From further down the path a group of goblins were approaching bearing another wheel barrel. They joined the dwarf.

Reluctantly I left. Why was it no one wanted to discuss what had happened prior to my coming? Hoggle had seemed genuinely afraid of discussing the matter. Yet it had been his question that had initiated the topic. The moment I pressed further he panicked. None of it made sense. Silly Fae, I thought to myself reaching the veranda. A servant appeared and inquired if I should want lunch outside. In the warmth of the fall sun would be a good place to think. As I ate I picked over some theories. It was very probable that all of the inhabitants of the Underground- the king, the physician, the goblins, Hoggle- were all with holding information. Of course then there was the very real possibility that whatever did occur prior to my arrival just didn't concern me. I took a bite of salad. Let them have their secrets, I thought.

Hearing foot steps I looked up to see the king. He walked slowly, shoulders slightly hunched with a brooding expression. Something was definitely wrong. He had been near light hearted before leaving for the summons. Sighing he walked to the table and took hold of one of the chairs. I asked if he was well. He shook his head. "The last summons did not go well." His eyes avoided me. "We lost one to Sheol into Pluto's hand."

Sheol: the place of the dead for both the righteous and devious; the waiting place. Pluto: the ruler of said place. I sat my fork down. "Young?" I asked referring to the child.

"Ten." His hands flexed. "She passed through the veil as soon as I stepped back." My food was no longer appealing. I watched his face. His eye twitched. "There will be a small service for her this evening. We keep a chapel at the far end of the nursery. Bartholomew is seeing to her now." He looked at me. "Perhaps we can hold off any more reminding for the day?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." His eyes flickered away. He turned to leave.

I stood up. "Jareth!" He looked back at me. "May I… may I come to the service?"

He regarded me. "If you so desire."

"I do."

He nodded. "Meet me outside the nursery at five o'clock." He walked off the veranda and into the gardens. I sat back down and allowed a few tears.

At four pm I went to my room to dress for the service. Surveying the wardrobe I pondered what would be considered appropriate Underground funeral attire. Death was an occurrence to be respected, at least in my world. Was it feared here? Or honored? Did they wear black? A servant arrived to rescue me. "My name is Meep miss; allow me to help you dress for the funeral."

"Gladly."

From the back of the wardrobe she pulled out a modest black gown that had a black lace shawl as well. "You will use the shawl to cover your head," she explained helping me step into the skirt. "You must shield yourself from the claws of death."

"Is Pluto so eager for souls that he would seek to devour life during a funeral?"

"Death cares not who you are or where you are." The sleeves were pulled up. "Pluto is a just ruler and he is to be respected by covering yourself. His majesty will be covered in a black cloak as well."

I turned to view myself in a mirror. Every dress seemed to hug me tighter than I would want, but it sufficed. As I reached to conceal the moon pendant under the scoop of the neck Meep asked why I would hide the king's symbol; why I did not show it with pride. "It is a personal thing," I said letting it drop. "It represents a bargain betwixt the king and me- no one else need know about it."

"But we already do!" she exclaimed smiling. "The king's admiration of you is quite evident."

I said nothing in response. Better to keep such revelations to one's self than encourage fantasies that weren't meant to be.

At five o'clock I found myself walking towards the nursery. Jareth was there waiting his body covered in a black cloak. Offering a very faint smile he greeted me, "Very appropriate." He indicated my garments. "Except one thing is amiss." Smoothly he crooked his finger and drew out the pendant. "Do not hide it." He let it dangle from his finger.

"It represents a private agreement," I replied. "I don't need to go flaunting it about."

"Only shameful things are hidden."

"But Jareth,"

His eyes grew hard. Tugging on the pendant he forced me to draw closer to him. "Don't argue with me right now girly, I'm in no decent mood. Humor me and leave it out!" He laid it against the fabric. Pulling the shawl over my head he continued, "There now you are ready."

"Fine. Whatever. Let's get through this without being disrespectful." Tucking my hand under his arm he led me into the building.

He led me down the far end of the building where we passed through a set of heavy wooden doors. There was an isle with pews on either side. At the front a long flat table stood flanked on either side by a collection of roses. He took me to the front and after sitting me on a pew stood in front of the table. Other Fae arrived. Most of them were elves from the nursery- I recognized Fergi as she curtsied to the king. As she turned to walk away she shot me an odd glance. Her eyes made the pendant feel awkwardly large and noticeable. As discreetly as I could I moved the pendant under the fabric. Quietness fell over the room. At the far end of the isle Bartholomew appeared, behind him six male elves carried a casket. "Hale Jareth, King of the Goblins and kindred!" he called.

Jareth responded, "Hale Bartholomew, physician and kindred!"

"I bring you a child- see to her; fulfill your oath to protect the innocent and see her over to other side."

Jareth faced worked hard to control some emotion. "Bring her to me. I will fulfill my oath." The casket descended the isle. Setting it on the table the pall bearers turned to stand three by three on either side of the casket. Bartholomew took a seat on the same pew as myself. Jareth stood behind the casket as if he was at a pulpit and he a priest. "Behold," he began, his voice resounding and commanding. "the reminder of the importance of my duty. See the loss of innocence and the disrespect for life. Behold the reminder! Bow with me." His head lowered he began to speak in a language I could not comprehend. It sounded of Greek and of French; it was melodic and old. It was the ancient language, the vernacular of the Fae. I knew not the words, but some how I saw of what he spoke- I saw life and the rich blessings we are given; I saw rain fall on both the just and the unjust; I saw the seasons give way to the next sister. I saw it all in his words. Tears fell. "Now I fulfill my oath with her burial. Come you kindred and bear witness." The ball bearers once more lifted the casket and the crowd moved out a back door.

I was relieved to see that the cemetery held very few head stones. Even with the new hole waiting the total number of graves was roughly thirty. Thirty souls lost to Pluto, I thought standing apart from the crowd, still one too many. Silently the witnesses watched as the casket was lowered into the ground. Taking a fist full of dirt Jareth tossed it upon the casket. From where I stood I could have sworn that I saw a tear fall down his cheek. He turned his head and raised a hand to his cheek. All of the other Fae followed suite, dropping handfuls of dirt. As the last one passed I found that the king and I were along by the grave. Choking back my own emotions I too performed the same actions. He gave me a weak smile. "Come," he then said, offering his hand. "Let us go into eat." Taking his hand he took us from the cemetery to his private chamber.

Once in the room he ordered a servant to prepare food and drink and have brought to the room. That done he threw aside his cloak and flung himself on the couch. I noticed even his clothes were black. The idea of death still hung in the air. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. I sought words to ease the tension. "You do your job well, you know," I said. He grunted in response. "Do you always take it this hard?"

He stretched his legs out. "It doesn't happen very often. I pride myself on efficiency," he went on. "When a child dies post-wish… it is my fault for not responding fast enough."

I considered this. "There is only one of you Jareth."

"Humph! Rebekah I have the power of a god, therefore I should have no limitations."

I stood behind him. "But you are not a god."

He arched his neck and look up at me. "That I am not… but I need to be reminded every once in a while." Reaching around, he took hold of my arm. "Come sit with me." His hand guided me around the couch. With me sitting across from him he seemed to relax. For myself I still tasted the bitterness in my mouth. Death is never an easy occurrence. I wanted to understand his responsibilities, but I also wanted him to recognize his limitations. Not a god, but not a mortal, I mused, where does that leave him- angel? Divine being? Superman? A life under his care had been lost, yet it had been no fault of his. "Why did you attend the service?" he asked. His hand still held my arm.

"It was the right thing to do. Death is to be respected."

He seemed to honestly consider my response. "You speak well. Out of all of us Pluto wields great power. He is my constant adversary." The hand that had been on my arm was raised to touch my head. He brushed back the veil exposing all of my red hair. Absently he combed his fingers through a few strands. "Such lovely hair." The hand went back to my arm which he pulled on. "Come here. I just want you near for comfort," he then added as I opened my mouth to protest.

"Remember your promise," I said as he had me lean against him. Head on his shoulder, he rested his head against mine. Had I said that for his benefit or mine? I thought as I smelt him. Cloves were so divine.

"Some times the nearness of a woman is the best thing for a man."

Like wise, I thought closing my eyes. He shifted slightly leaning further back in to the crook of the couch. For a moment we just breathed together. It was near the end of the day and it was relaxing to lay warm and snug against a body.

I felt something lightly brush against my chest. Glancing down I realized his fingers were playing with the chain of the necklace. They trailed and caressed the links, brushing my skin ever so lightly.

Ghads, I thought trying not to start hyperventilating, does he realize how that feels?!

Slowly he traced the chain down where it disappeared beneath the fabric of the dress. There they stopped, poised and hesitant. I tensed wondering if he would dare. One finger dipped below the collar line, following the train of the necklace to where the pendant rested quite intimately between my breasts. Involuntarily I half squeaked half gasped, my body tensing against his. He stilled his pursuit. "Easy girly," he said, calm and confident. "I'm merely retrieving what's mine." The finger hooked the pendant and drew it out.

I made a ridiculous noise as he did so. "You could have just asked for it," I said breathlessly.

"I had to contrive some sort of punishment for you hiding it again," was his reply. He played with the pendant.

My skin tingled where he had been. "Copping a feel is considered punishment now?"

His hand pushed the pendant flush with my chest, while his other hand took a handful of my hair. "Don't try to tell me it isn't torturous for me to touch you." One hand tightened, the other pushed harder. His lips were at my ear. "You're so irritatingly pious that you'll fight every inclination to respond or touch me in return."

I surprised myself even by reaching out to touch his hand that held the pendant. "Do your worst." It was a reckless challenge.

There was the faintest change in his breathing- just a little quicker. His fingers flinched. "Hmm, are you sure you want that?"

Against all better reasoning words were tumbling out of my mouth, "It just means I'm resigned to my punishment."

He forced me to shift so I was looking at him. His eyes were a mixture of sexuality and apprehension. I knew I looked similar, except my cheeks were flushed. "You coy, suggestive, troublesome woman- are you inviting me to break our bargain?"

Yes, I thought to myself.

"It's what you want."

He shook his head. "That's not what I asked. I know what I want; I know full well what I want. As accustomed as I am to getting it, you better be one hundred percent sure of what it is you want."

Boldly I leaned forward and grazed his lips with my own. I distinctly felt his chest rise in several shallow breaths. "I want release." I moved my hand up his arm, drawing myself closer to him. I wasn't sure what had gotten in to me, but I was ready to throw caution to the wind and have at it. Nothing fought or screamed inside me expect the need to feel his hands on many more places than just my chest. Kissing him again he responded, moving his lips against my mouth with skill. If I was going to go to hell in a hand basket, might as well make it one with silk lining. I moved to wrap my arms around his neck, to press our bodies together. He in turn held onto my waist, lifting me to sit across his lap. Inhaling I could smell rich cloves; it enticed a dreamy sigh out of me. He made a noise in response and ran his tongue across my lips. Letting him in, I tasted coco. Again I wondered if he could taste or smells things about me. Supporting my back he leaned forward and laid me against the cushions. He left my lips, which were tingling and throbbing, and began kissing along my neck. "What do I taste like?" I asked. These kisses were feathery- I shuddered under him.

He paused and hovered over my skin. "You taste like spun honey. You smell like," he inhaled and let out warm breath. "spring time… like orange blossoms. Sweet," he dropped his head lower and kissed at my collar bone. "and tangy."

There was a knock at the door.

Neither one of us moved. It was probably a servant. I prayed he had enough decency to not embarrass me by flaunting our current condition. He raised his head and looked at me. He smiled, most wickedly. My eyes shot open in alarm. "Don't move!" he told me, sitting up. The angle of the couch was so that whoever was at the door could only see the back- sitting up Jareth was only visible from his shoulders up. From where I lay I was undetectable. "Yes!" he called out.

"Dinner sire."

Rolling his eyes- oh, yes, we had ordered food, had quite forgotten about that, my didn't we get distracted- he told the servant to enter. I could hear the clatter of the service cart and the clink of the dishes. Glancing down at me he reached for the moon and gave it a decent tug. In response I found his leg and pinched him. "Just leave it!" he was then saying to the servant. "That'll do." The door shut. Looking down at me, he shook his head and sighed. Smiling, he said, "I thought you wanted me to remember Sarah."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I don't know what got into me."

"Frustration, I'd wager. Come here- let's talk you and me." He pulled me up. I stayed on his lap. He studied my face. "I want this." He indicated what we had just been about. "I want it because it's you; because it would be amazing." He paused.

"There's a 'but' there, isn't there?"

"You made me take an oath and I am bound by that now. Besides it is impossible to suddenly decide in a split second that all of your convictions and beliefs are nothing."

"But isn't that what you wanted?" I could not hide my exasperation.

"It's not what you want though. Come the morning after you would hate yourself as well as me. I won't do that."

"How gentlemanly of you."

"I still reserve the right to harass and depending on what you might do, even punish you."

"Then what do I get out of this?"

"A clean conscience, harmless flirtation, and… a more agreeable goblin king."

"So long as I don't keep you at arm's length?"

"I'll leave breathing room. I'm asking you to meet me half way with this."

He had tasted so good, he had smelt so wonderful; I was still feeling excited from him. Then again I had nearly broken my own oath. He had a point. It was a generous offer.

"Agreed." He scouted me off his lap, complaining that the food would be getting cold.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

I stood outside two imposing wooden doors. Candelabrums flickered soft shadows over the carvings. The hallway was dark and deserted save for my self. Of my own free will I had come to these doors; to pull them open and enter the room. Whatever awaited me on the other side caused my stomach to quake and quiver. Taking hold of the rings I pulled the doors apart, causing a slight breeze. My clothes fluttered softly, making me aware that I was only clad in a light, sheer night gown. The fabric caressed my skin, tingling.

Now I stood inside the room. Moonlight washed over the floor and sparse furniture. The light made things glow. At the far end of the room there was a dais with a large bed, draped and half hidden behind curtains. There- just barely I could make out a faint shape of a body. My stomach quivered and somersaulted. I walked with purpose across the moon beams to the side of the bed. Drawing aside one of the heavy curtains I saw the body more clearly- bare skin twisted in sheets, but recognizable. His hair played across the pillow, so smooth and soft in the moon's glow. Quite calmly I mounted the bed and leaned over him. It was then I heard the wild beat of my heart. I was excited all over; near bristling. "Jareth," I said just a whisper in the night. "I'm here." I kissed his lips to validate my words.

I did not recall him stirring to my presence, or responding to my touch. One moment I was leaning in anticipation, the next he held me against him kissing hard, forcing my mouth to open. His hands traced my hips. Then they were hugging my rib cage, numbering each peak and valley. They ran between my shoulder blades and into my hair.

He murmured something into my mouth, a wordless command to ease up. In so doing I allowed for him to roll his weight over, pressing my back into the mattress. We both were breathing harder. With every breath I drew in an intoxicating spice- cloves and nutmeg; cinnamon and mint. Hot lips were exploring my neck and collar bone. He drew himself half up on his knees, straddled over my middle. His hands had traveled back done their old path of ribs and hips, and were at my thighs. "Love me," he was saying, his voice half lost amidst fabric. I ran my hands through his hair. The night gown was inched away from my legs. "Don't fear me." The night gown was pulled over my hips and on its way over my stomach. "Don't mistrust me." I involuntarily shuddered under him. He lifted me, bringing both of us to an upright position. I was acutely aware that I was half bent under him intimately situated. He raised the gown over my head. "Just love me," pausing he drew me against him, my breasts brushing his chest. Lips were at my ear, "…As I love you." My response, my encouragement was to kiss him, drawing away slightly to have him follow me to lie down again.

I caught sight of something odd and bright. Lying against my bare chest was the half moon pendant- it was emitting a beautiful soft glow. He had been distracted with kicking away a blanket, and then he turned and saw it. The glow illuminated his face- the intense sexuality melted into something like joy. With a calm yet husky voice I half smiled and said, "My heart light."

He reached to cover the pendant with his hand. "Let it shine." He was kissing me again. I felt pressure bearing down on my hips. I arched…

…I awoke with a start as thunder rolled. Sheets and blankets were wrapped and tucked about me in a highly sensual way. Blood was pumping through my thighs. My heart was running a marathon. Completely unsure whether I had been dreaming or cruelly abandoned on the threshold of ecstasy, I slowly sat up. I was in my room, in my bed, with my sheets and blankets. I was alone. Smacking my forehead, I exclaimed, "Wow! Never had a dream like that before!" I flung the sheets away, allowing the cool air of the room to rush over me.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Morning was well enough near- grey light peeked through the curtains. I arose and dressed. Sleep was far from me. Admittedly I was afraid to slip back into another provocative dream. And what nonsense had we been talking about there- Heart light? Now my mind saw fit to be quoting old Neil Diamond songs? I looked out the curtains- clouds loomed over head. Thunder rolled again. I took a thick cloak with me. Right as I opened the door my eye caught the diary lying atop my collection of books. I left it. I made my way out to exit through the familiar veranda.

Though the sky threatened rain I went out into the gardens. The path to Hoggle's current work, my garden, had become familiar enough. The fall air was crisp and chilly- it soothed my state of mind. My breath made clouds as I walked. Frost had touched the plants- everything seemed encrusted with diamonds. I marveled at them for they seemed precious. A spider's web had been adorned as well- now it seemed like an intricate necklace.

I wandered out further. Things were beginning to feel out of my control and I was becoming less and less diligent in my duty to the kingdom. In a month I had gone from ordinary, protective writer to a hormone ragging subject of the Goblin King. Why did we both insist upon tempting each other? A cool breeze brushed my face. I was going to have to resort to one of the most poignant memories if I was ever going to heal the Underground. The masquerade; the ball; the dance; the Crystal Ballroom- it was known by all of those names. I was going to have to try and tap into his memory of that one vulnerable moment, with him dancing with Sarah in his arms, singing to her, and hope that it would trigger his remembering. Provided I could concentrate on my words. At the moment I was still feeling over whelmed. The pagoda came in sight as the first few drops of water came down. I made for shelter.

The rain was warmer then the frost and soon the thin ice melted away. It seemed that same of the plants were literally stretching and shaking the ice away. Just under the eaves of the roof this curious thing seemed the most evident. I watched as the plants unfolded and unraveled revealing flower buds. Several of these actually unfolded their petals. I blinked in wonder- was I more sleep deprived then I originally thought? Amidst the folds of petals there were eyes, mouths, and noses. Leaves were being used as hands. I felt quite suddenly felt like Alice, gone down the rabbit hole. One flower, a burgundy red rose, glanced my way. "Good morning miss," she said.

The rain splashed down and I breathed the cool air. Yes- I was awake. "Good morning," I replied out of politeness.

Another rose, a white one spoke, "Doesn't the rain feel divine?"

"Yes" replied Red. "Nice to have it before we disappear for the winter."

White seemed to just notice me. "My, but you must have sprung up over night! How fast you grew!"

"Oh you silly thing!" Red swatted at her with her leaf hand. "She is obviously a transplant. Tell me miss just what sort of plant are you?"

Alice, I mused in my amazement, I'm so empathizing with you right now!

I half-laughed. "Begging your pardon, but I am not a plant. No," I insisted when they gawked in wonder.

As they stammered on, trying to determine then just what I could be- for I obviously wasn't a dwarf or goblin- a fairy flew into view. I recognized her- it was Queen Delilah! She wore the same rich petal gown. She stopped on the flower and drew out something from the mouth and secured it in a pouch. She's gathering nectar, I realized.

"Queen Delilah, please help us over here!" Red called to her.

She landed lightly on the flower's head. "Dear me- Lady Rebekah!" exclaimed the good queen.

"Your majesty," I gave her a curtsey.

"It has been several weeks since I last saw you- you are well now I hope?"

"Yes, I am perfectly well now. What brings you out in this weather? I should think it hard to fly in the rain."

"It is neigh impossible to my dear. I was out early gathering some last reserves before the storm let loose. I'll fly back when it clears. What are these troublesome flowers pestering you about?"

I smiled. "They are quite puzzled that I am neither plant, nor goblin, nor dwarf."

"Troublesome things! She's a human!" She lightly patted the petals she rested on.

"Oh!" said Red and White in unison.

"Tell me Lady Rebekah, how are you enjoying yourself here in the Labyrinth? I trust Jareth is treating you well."

"I'm comfortable here now. It's been about a month and… well, I like it here."

She smiled up at me. She then asked if she could alight on my shoulder. "I should like to talk with you." She flew up and settled on my shoulder, holding onto a few strands of hair for security. "Walk around the pagoda." I began to. She fell silent for the first few steps. "I am glad that you like it here, my dear," she finally said. I could hear her wings twitch. "I was apprehensive about you coming, you know."

I feigned understanding. If she's willing to talk... "Oh so was I. Actually the whole proposal was rather intimidating."

We reached the far side of the pagoda. She told me to keep walking around. When she spoke again there was a hint of amusement in her voice, "Jareth can definitely come across rather brash. He means well, but he can be thoroughly graceless and demanding when he wants to be."

It was my turn to be amused. I smirked. "You've known his highness long?"

"Since he was a child. Between us, woman to woman, I think he was apprehensive about bringing you here too. Don't get me wrong- he was determined to get the courts' permission. I think it was the whole idea though." I nodded, though thoroughly confused on the inside. "It just worked out in everyone's favor that you turned out to be silver-tongued. The courts like to have a more substantial reason for bringing a mortal to any Fae realm, than just feelings."

To me it suddenly had grown a good deal colder. I sought the pockets of the cloak.

"Is something wrong my dear?" she asked.

"I'm just a little chilly. Do the courts approve of my being here then?"

Her wings twitched again. "They haven't said much since you've been here, and Jareth hasn't attended any meetings since your arrival either. I think," she stood pulling on the strands of hair ever so lightly. "that they really don't have anything to say against you. Though I daresay they wish he'd hurry up."

I was getting goose-bumps. "Queen Delilah... may I ask a question?" There was no hiding the tone in my voice.

She flew to look me in the face. "Whatever is it Rebekah?"

What was the question I wanted to desperately ask? My mind was a frenzy of puzzles, emotions, misgivings, and confusion. There was one question that would put it all to rest and before I could stop myself the words came out. Had I hesitated a moment longer the words would have choked, "Do you think that the king loves me?"

She made to reply, but then quite suddenly started and turned around. Looking past her I saw that it had stopped raining and Jareth was approaching. She looked back at me. Coming quite near to my ear she said, "Turn on your heart light." She flew out to the king.

I stood there for a moment unable to breathe. The intimate details of last night's erotic dream came back to me. The cold was powerless to control the heat wave that rushed my cheeks. Jareth was approaching the pagoda. I turned away, hoping to regain some composure. Something flapped against my chest- the moon pendant defiantly swung in clear view. He had reached the pagoda. "Good morning Rebekah," he said.

I bit my lip and took a deep breath. "Good morning Jareth."

"And how are you this morning?"

Freaked out, I thought, puzzled and thoroughly creeped out!

Another deep breath. "Fine," I managed to say.

"I trust you slept well?"

Why is he trying to make pleasantries right now? Another deep breath. I turned to look at him. He stood well across the other side of the pagoda his body hidden in his own heavy cloak. "Yes. You? Any strange dreams or anything?" I tried to ask it casually.

A slight flinch just around the eyes- it was there for a split second. It had been reactionary. The moment it was gone he looked away from me and surveyed the grounds. "Oh, just the usual mental banter. You?"

I looked out as well. "Oh the usual." We stood several yards apart. It was so unlike our usual stance. "It was nice to see Queen Delilah again."

He nodded in agreement. Then silence. I heard several drips from water falling off the roof. "How about breakfast?" He was walking away before I could answer. I followed at a safe distance.

Inside his private room it was warm and welcoming with a fire. Tea awaited us; he poured it as we waited for the breakfast cart. I took my cup and stood on one side of the fire place while he occupied the other. Distance, I thought, maybe Queen Delilah isn't the only one who knows about heart lights… No matter, I then concluded to myself, him and I aren't meant to be. Breakfast arrived and was served. I sat opposite of him at the table.

He gave me a quizzical look. "You're not going to sit next to me this morning?"

"No. I-I like this seat, it is closer to the fire you know." That seemed to suffice him. I tried not to stare at him as he buttered toast. "I think we should try another memory today," I finally said. I heard the clink of knife to plate. "I have one picked out that should work."

"Very well," was his answer. His voice seemed reserved; not confident nor cocky as it usually was. He took a drink from his cup. "Anything special that you will be in need of for this memory?"

I wanted him to say something sarcastic and harsh; stop this reserved niceness. Or at the very least climb across the table and demand I make sweet love to him there and then. I picked at the eggs on my plate. "Umm, do you have a ballroom?"

"I have more than one."

"Something like a crystal ballroom?" He half smiled. "What?" It was a full smile now. "Tell me!" I pressed him, finding myself responding to his obvious amusement.

"It's just if it's the same one I'm thinking of- dear me! I used that ballroom on her!" He leaned back in his chair. "It is actually known as the Crystal Ballroom, and it is of no small importance. The High Courts enjoy using it for their fancy affairs," he paused, his eyes suddenly becoming very merry. "…even weddings. It hasn't been used in years though; it's probably dusty and filled with cobwebs."

"That's where we need to go."

"Alright, so long as you eat something." He indicated my untouched food. "I won't have you getting sick on me again." I ate.

Within the hour we were walking down a large gallery heading towards two doors that loomed some fifteen feet in the air. I had always been aware of how tall the ceilings were in the castle, but most of the doors stopped at around seven feet. These doors looked heavy. With a slight touch of his hand Jareth sent them opening. The light from the gallery poured into the room. Shadows trailed on. Around me in the dim light I could make out some sunken seating arrangements. From the ceiling several objects reflected the light. Very faintly I could see sheer fabric. "This is it alright," I finally said. I reached the edge of the light.

"It goes on much further," he said. I edged the shadows. "I could see you dancing in here." It was said kindly, and with what- a hint of hopefulness?

"Pshaw! I don't even know how to properly dance."

"That didn't stop you the night at the club." I looked at him, even with the light behind him I could tell he was smiling. He gave an order into the air, "Illuminate!"

Candles leapt alive, showering light through out the room. Most of the furniture was covered in drop clothes and a thin layer of dust covered those. Candelabrums flickered as they burned away the dust that had settled over their wicks. Further along there was a short stair case that led down to a large dance floor. I had imagined myself in this ballroom since I was a young girl, captivated by Henson's movie. I noticed the king was at my elbow- the closest he had dared be near me all morning.

"Dance with me." He held his hand out to me. I took it. He stood in the position for a waltz, properly placing my hands on him. It was still a polite distance.

"I don't how to do this," I was saying. In my head the masquerade was playing over and over again- swirling costumes, illusive masks, and the Goblin King in his stately, romantic attire.

"Follow my lead. I step forward with my left foot, you step back with your right," a little gentle pressure on my waist. "My left to the side, you follow with your right… Very good." He smiled at me.

I smiled back. Bells rang out- a high pitched ring. "Yikes!" I started away from him. "What does that mean? Those aren't summoning bells!"

He seemed to listen to the sound. "Those are help needed bells. A subject in the Aboveground needs me. Come along with me- I know who's calling; you'll like her." I came near him again, assenting to going.

In one quick leap the ballroom was gone. The ground touched my feet outside a little house. Crystals and wind chimes hung about the roof ledge and even on the one tree that occupied the front yard. Behind us the neighborhood street was quiet. From inside came the shrill of a woman's voice, "Blast it- you get down from there! I'll send you to the Bog I will…once I get my hands on you!"

Jareth smirked and chuckled. "Seems she's having some goblin issues today."

"Who is she? What's going on?" Something clattered and glass crashed.

"Inside this little house is a very dear subject of mine."

"Is she Fae?"

He started up the walk. "Well, no."

"So she's human?" I heard an odd scuttling noise.

"Umm, no she's not quite that either. She's some where in between you could say." We were at the door. He knocked. Another crash sounded. I winced wondering what in the world was going on. The door opened and an exasperated, flushed face of a woman appeared at the door. Her chin length brown hair was disheveled. She looked at me and then the king. "Hello darling," said Jareth.

She looked as if she were ready to spit nails. "About time you got here! I don't know what's gotten into'em!" She opened the door enough for us to pass in.

Inside there was a small living room. Asian and fantasy items were decorated throughout. Several more crystals were tucked about. She led us into the kitchen. I saw that her table was scattered with note books and a few drawing pads. Then I heard the strangest thing- it sounded almost like a cat meowing, but it gurgled as well. Above her refrigerator was a cut out with a ledge. The sound came again from the very spot. "She won't come down," she said crossing her arms.

"What won't come down?" I timidly asked.

The woman, clad in a t-shirt and holey blue jeans regarded me. An odd pendant that looked like a maze hung around her neck. "Who is that?" she asked Jareth.

The king was studying the ledge. "Oh…Rebekah this is Heather. Heather, Rebekah."

She turned towards me and extended a hand. "Official Namer of Goblins and Voluntary Protector of the Labyrinth."

I shook her hand. "Er… Silver-Tongue Mortal."

Her eyes lit up. "Ah! Lovely then!"

Jareth nodded upwards. "Is it named?"

"Yes. I just named her this morning. Tawny!" she called out. Nothing replied. "Tawny the king is here- you had better reply! At least she's being still now," Heather then went on. "She was all over the place, knocking over things a few moments ago. I don't understand it- they always go their merry way after I name them."

Jareth tapped his chin. "Tawny," he said sternly. "Do I really have to come up there?"

Gurgle, gurgle, meow.

"Ladies, you're going to have to excuse us for a bit. I'm going to have to have a private conversation with this goblin." Effortlessly he levitated up to the ledge. Heather scooted back into the front room.

Heather sat on her couch, seemingly unaffected and calm now with the situation. Had a goblin randomly shown up in my house, I would have freaked out. She fiddled with her pendant. "So," I started wanting to break the ice. "you're an Official Goblin Namer and…"

"…Voluntary Protector of the Labyrinth- yep that's me."

"How does one get such a mouth full of a title?"

"Well the goblins just started showing up one day, and half of the dears didn't have names. That just wouldn't do, so I began naming them. Then his majesty in there began wondering where all of his subjects kept taking off to at intervals." She spoke so calmly and matter-of-factly. I shook my head in bewilderment. "He invited me out to the castle, and after a lovely dinner and charming conversation, I offered my services to the kingdom. I stay in the Aboveground though," she finished.

"Why?"

"I'm comfortable here. Plus I can do more good up here. See I'm also a writer and my pieces keep the knowledge of the Fae strong here in the mortal realm."

"But you're not silver-tongued?"

"Goodness no! I sort of act as a scribe or scholar, I suppose. Now you, you say that you're silver-tongued, and I must say that that is cool." She stood up and went to a shelf where she lit some incense.

"So how long have you been in the king's service?"

"About ten years now, but this," she nodded towards the kitchen. "is a first. Normally I just like to have tea with the king, not call him for emergencies." She looked at me running her eyes over my clothes. Cocking her head to one side, she said, "He's got you wearing his moon pendant." In a few strides she was at my side.

"Yes… well, we made this agreement…you see…"

Her fingers gently touched it. "He doesn't let just any one where his symbol."

Words echoed in my mind. I looked at her stunned.

"You do know that this is significant?" she asked, actually holding the moon. I shook my head. What is her problem? I asked myself. "He didn't tell you?" I shook my head again. Nervously she glanced into the kitchen. "Come into the bathroom with me."

"Eh?"

"Come on!" She pulled me after her.

In the bathroom she shut the door. Opening a drawer she took out a velvet pouch and slid out what looked like a metal snow flake. She then turned and hung it on the back of the door. "That's made out of iron- he won't be able to hear a word we say. How long have you been in the Underground?" Something about her had turned very anxious. "A month… How long did he watch you for?" I told her that I wasn't sure; I knew though that he had come at least twice to my window. "Alright then, you better tell me why he brought you to the Underground." I retold my story as best as possible. With every breath I drew she grew more agitated. "I should slap him silly, I really should. Well he's made a fine mess of everything now. What exactly are you trying to remind him of?"

"I'm trying to remind him of Sarah."

Her eyes widened. "You mean Sarah Williams? The girl from the book?"

"Yes! The very same! He's quite forgotten all about her, and I'm beginning to doubt that I'll ever remind him."

From the other room we heard Jareth calling for us.

Heather rubbed her forehead. "Look the real Sarah and the story book Sarah are two different people."

"What are you saying? You mean she never came to the Labyrinth?"

Jareth called out again, "Heather come out of that bathroom! I know you've got iron some where with you- I can feel it!"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear us talking about menstruation issues!" she yelled back. To me she went on, "Yes she came to the Underground, she even ran the Labyrinth, but not the way you think she did." She knelt and opened one of the cabinets under the sink.

"I don't understand." She had a box in her hands.

"Here!" She shoved something into my hands.

"Tampons?"

"Play along."

"Heather!" he sounded angry.

"You need to talk to Jareth's father- King Oberon,"

"The King of Shadows is his father?! How does this all add up- Sarah, myself, the moon pendant…"

"I can't explain it to you- I'm not allowed! Trust me though. Find a way to get King Oberon to the castle… throw a ball or something, and talk to him." She held up a tampon in her hand. Taking hold of the door handle she smiled. "I wish you the best of luck… and they're very reliable!" she then exclaimed loudly throwing open the door.

Jareth stood there looking very irritated.

She eyed the box in my hands. "Oh, yes, I cannot thank you enough for helping me out."

"Womanly issues," she said wagging the tampon she held in the air. "She's going to need them."

He looked at the box and then turned away muttering, "Oh bother."


	15. Chapter 15

The goblin issue was soon resolved. Tawny was an expecting goblin who had made a proper nest on the ledge in the kitchen. Like any respecting mother, she didn't want to leave her nest. Heather was most insistent that the goblin and nest be removed immediately to the physician's quarters back in the Underground. "Goblin birthing is nasty business- smells worse than rotting eggs. Not to mention the sticky embryonic fluid," she made a gagging motion. "I won't have it here in my kitchen." Jareth forewarned the physician via a crystal orb of the in coming expectant mother and with a snap of his fingers sent goblin and nest through the cosmos to the Underground. He then turned toward the Official Goblin Namer and Voluntary Protector of the Labyrinth and smiled warmly.

"Where is my thank you?" he asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes. "From where I stand you should still be thanking me," she replied. I stood apart watching them. It was friendly banter; familiar banter. I blinked- was her maze charm slightly glowing? "When the scales even out again, I'll consider saying thanks."

"Ah, yes- those scales; any chance of speeding up that balance?" He was standing very close to her. I clasped my hands together nervously.

Her eyes were dancing at him. "You know what would speed things along." His hand was on her cheek. I was twisting my own fingers. I forced my head to turn and look at something else. There were drawings held to the fridge with magnets. "But alas! You refused my offer, remember? …And you never go back on your word." Her tone seemed slightly sad.

"I can't please every woman who comes my way," he said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him stoop and kiss her forehead affectionately.

"It wouldn't take much to please me." Her voice had been barely audible.

He turned away from her saying, "We need to be getting back." At the sound of his voice I felt I could look again. Her charm was solid and smooth.

As he passed by me, he too stopped and noticed the drawings on the fridge. A few of them seemed to hold his interest. "Heather- where did these come from?"

"Eh…I figured one of your subjects left them for me, as sort of an odd way of showing gratitude."

"This," he plucked one drawing in particular away. It was a full circle with three stars tucked inside it. "is Brighton's symbol."

"Uh-oh," she said.

"That can't be good," I said.

"It isn't good at all," confirmed Jareth. "Alright darling, pack your bags- you're coming back with us. Gather what you will need. Now!" She hurriedly gathered up a few note pads and taking an egg shaped crystal from a shelf tucked it into her pocket. "Come near both of you." I saw her all too comfortably put her arms around him.

Back in the castle Jareth excused himself and went to his study. Heather was off to her chamber to change her clothes and get situated. She invited me along. I followed as she walked the hallways and mounted stairs without any hesitation. She knew the ins and outs of the castle. Her chamber just happened to be the one next to Jareth's. My eyes twitched towards my door across the hall. She opened her door. "It won't do at all," she was saying. "to go meandering about in Aboveground attire. When in Rome, you look the part." Her room contained more decorations than mine, and she touched everything with familiarity as if she had chosen the fabrics and furniture herself. Out of a wardrobe she selected a dress and disappeared behind a dressing screen. "By the name of all the fairies, it does feel good to be back so near the Labyrinth again! Hey there Rebekah- come help me with this blasted hook." I walked behind the screen. "No sense in calling for a maid." She paused. "I suppose I owe you a bit of an explanation, don't I?"

I opened my mouth for the first time since we had left her house. "Whatever for?"

"I tell you that the half moon pendant, the symbol of the king is only worn by a select few, and then you witness that ridiculous banter in my kitchen. You probably think I'm a hussy."

"Who the king chooses to socialize with is his own business."

The dress was properly secured. Walking out from behind the screen she went on, "You needn't feign indifference with me kiddo; everything is written on your face. Jealousy becomes no one, so I'll be straight with you." She rummaged around for a pair of shoes and stockings. "Ten years ago I had my head full of romantic notions and a strong belief in the Fae. Now… well, I live with Fae and am more of a realistic romantic."

I tried to put side the awkward feeling she gave me. "What exactly does the king owe you thanks for?"

"I saved the Labyrinth." Again that matter-of-fact tone. "See the Labyrinth operates like a Yin and Yang- it needs both a male and a female side to operate properly. When I offered my service to the kingdom, I offered myself as the female side; I volunteered myself."

"Thus your title?"

"Exactly!" She stood up and went to the vanity. "Being the romantic that I was I naturally assumed that not only would I be the Labyrinth's female side, but Jareth's as well. Don't look at me that way!" I realized that I had been glaring. She looked at me with the kindest of expressions. "He didn't want me like that. You on the other hand… he wants you like that and then some." I ignored the comment. "It's nothing to be ashamed of- he's hot."

"So as the female side of things… what do you do?"

"I nurture the Labyrinth- I love it and protect it with my entire being. I guess I've become something like its mother. I know everything and who, before my time and during, that has ever passed through its walls. There are just some things I'm not allowed to talk about, your Sarah being one of them. But tell me, what memory are you working with?"

"Well I've near exhausted all of them. I started on the masquerade memory this morning before you called for him."

She seemed to consider it. "Using the Crystal Ballroom?" I nodded. "It's the right place."

"Why can't you talk about it? Actually why can't anyone talk about it?"

Furrowing her brow she cocked her head to the side, "Not everyone in the Underground knows about Sarah. As to why no one will talk about how Jareth found you…. He probably threatened to dunk anyone in the Bog of Eternal Stench if they so much as breathed a word about anything concerning you. Look," she then went on standing and putting her hands on my shoulders. "None of this is going to make a lick of sense until you talk to," she was cut short by a loud clattering from outside the room. Opening the door she called out, "You there, goblin! What's the rush about?"

"Mi'lady, his majesty King Oberon is arriving at the castle!"

She looked back at me and smiled reassuringly, "Looks like things are turning in your favor then."

King Oberon was to arrive that evening. Servants rushed about changing linens, polishing the throne, and preparing the dining hall. I could hear Jareth in various rooms- one moment critiquing the menu, the next fussing with his tailor. Heather kept me well out of the way, walking the gardens and telling me all about her adventures in the Labyrinth. She was a self-assured wonder. Despite her feelings towards Jareth, she respected me. When evening arrived she insisted on helping me dress to meet the king. I found myself in an overly fitted green dress that had crystal embellishments along the collar line and hem of the skirt. I thought for sure that if anything startled me I'd pass out promptly for lack of breathing room. For herself she wore a delicate purple number that shimmered as she walked. "Jareth isn't going to be able to keep his hands off of you," she commented as we left the chamber.

"Any quick breathing and I'll pass out. He better stay calm."

"Not likely." She winked and smiled.

At the top of the stairs Jareth was waiting for us. He gave Heather a half-cocked grin and bowed to her. Seeing him made me want to turn around, run up stairs, and cover myself. My whole body reacted to him, standing there in complete royal attire. His waist coat was the same color as my dress. He looked at me and smiled broadly. "Excellent choice of color my dear," he said taking my hand and tucking it under his arm.

"Not done on purpose I can assure you."

"I did it on purpose. A little birdie informed me of what color you were wearing." I looked towards Heather, who had glanced over her shoulder and winked at me. Then she was half skipping down the stairs. "Darling little nuisance, isn't she?" And then, "I knew I had left you in good care."

I sighed, half amused. "So why is your father here Jareth?"

"A mixture of pleasure and business." We began descending the stairs. "He's not entirely fond of Brighton either and," he paused. Smiling he went on, "He had heard rumor that I was holding hostage a beautiful young mortal."

Bravely I plunged into my reply, "Well isn't that interesting. I had heard that the young mortal was here with the High Courts' blessing."

We were at the bottom of the stairs. Heather was well ahead of us now. He stopped and turned towards me. "Alright who has been talking?" He was still smiling.

"I won't say who, but you have been hiding things from me Jareth and believe you me I will find out what."

He leaned in close. My skin tingled. "Do your worst."

"Oh, I will." I made the best mock scowl I could muster.

His hand tightened. "Woman if my father wasn't waiting for us just now…"

"Ah, but he is. Behave yourself!"

His jacket brushed against me. "By whose standards- your's or mine?"

I realized I was smiling. "Mine."

His eye brow was cocked. "Shame." He resituated my arm and continued walking.


	16. Chapter 16

Oberon doted on Heather like a daughter. I was completely unprepared for the High Fae King- reading about such people is one thing, meeting them is quite another. I knew him to be stern, yet fair though prone to a spiteful streak. A Midsummer Night's Dream briefly ran through my mind, as Jareth and I reached the room. Heather was on her toes bestowing a kiss on the king's brow. "Father it is good to hear your voice again," she addressed him.

"I feel the Labyrinth rejoice having its protector so near it. For me, you are a beautiful sight for these old eyes." He kissed her cheek and patted her hand affectionately. "Here now- my son!"

Jareth left my side and went to his father. The two embraced. "Father it is good to see you."

Oberon pulled back from him and held him at arm's length. His expression had gone quite stern. "I suppose you know why I am here? Don't try making excuses- who is this mortal that I hear you have charmed into staying here?"

I blushed as Jareth turned and brought me forward. "Here she is. Rebekah Clysdale, my father King Oberon. Father, Rebekah my silver-tongue mortal."

"Oh she's your's now is she?" He took my hand and leaned over it. "Something tells me this woman belongs to no one." His kissed my fingers. "It is a pleasure."

"Sire I am flattered by your words. It is a pleasure for me as well." I curtsied deep. Upon rising I said, "Incidentally, your observation is correct sire."

His eyes flickered from me to Jareth. He smiled smoothly. "She is a great find Jareth! You young lady have captured my interest and I have just met you."

Jareth secured my hand again under his arm. I felt drawn to Oberon. "Sire, I try to only speak truth," I replied.

Fingers squeezed my hand. "Truth- like your tongue," said Jareth with hooded eyes. "can be a double edged sword. Trust me father she is a handful, and deceptively sharp."

I took away my hand and moved towards Oberon. "Do you hear how he talks to me?" I asked mocking hurt. Oberon cradled my hand in the crook of his arm. "How can one not be sharp with his disposition?"

He chuckled. "You are a treat young lady! A sharp tongue is the only way to keep him in check. Now my son, do not look so defeated. A woman such as Rebekah probably keeps you on your toes." He looked to me again. "I beg you sit on my right side at dinner."

"I gladly accept." I knew Jareth must have looked like a rooster that had just gotten his feather's ruffled badly. I returned Oberon's smile with one of my own. The dinner bell having rung we moved to the dinning room.

Dinner conversation naturally fell to more imperative issues than my sharp tongue or Jareth's disposition. Oberon hesitated not to begin discussing the prospect of war and what his son was doing to protect the kingdom's boundaries. Though war was not an uncommon thing, there were certain kings whose actions and intentions were closely scrutinized- Brighton being one of them. Brighton was a king who on principle avoided court appearances and when summoned usually sent a representative. Since most of his reprimands were not necessarily for doing wrong, but more for propriety's sake he was left to rule as he saw fit. Oberon had longed since wished to humble this particular Fae king. Jareth shared similar feelings- between the two of them they were going to ensure Brighton's down fall. "I hardly wish to physically cripple him," said Jareth taking hold of his wine glass. "but should he offer me no alternative…" He drank.

"He's acting out of boredom, no doubt," said Heather. "His slight tampering around my house was just enough to cause unease."

"A king who threatens war out of boredom isn't worthy of the title," continued Jareth.

I paused in my eating. "Why not," I started. "just show up on his front door step and threaten him; you know, colors waving, and all the fan fair."

Jareth smirked and regarded me. "That tactic usually only works on mortals, my dear, and the colors don't even need to be waving."

"You are so cocky," I quipped back across the table.

"Confident- do I have to keep reminding you?"

"I'm not the only one who needs convincing."

"You are asking for punishment," he warned, he half glowered and half grinned. Rolling my eyes I looked away. Oberon gave each of us a side ways glance. He went on, "I have my best men at the boarders. The moment one of his minions puts a foot on my land they'll be there to cut it off."

"And what if a whole hoard steps?" asked Oberon looking intently at his son's face.

I saw Jareth's eyes grow immensely deep and cold. "Then there will be a slaughter. No half-cocked, bored king will take advantage of what I am sworn to protect."

"Before you have head's rolling Jareth, perhaps a different tactic is in order." Everyone's head was turned towards Oberon. "I suggest feeling him out a little bit more. Throw a dance and invite him here. Perhaps a little bit of fan fair would remind him of just how powerful and resourceful a king you are. Easy Rebekah- my son maybe overly confident at times, but he is powerful." Dinner progressed nicely from there.

That night the weather turned colder. Fall was progressing into Winter's arms more noticeably. The flowers that had welcomed the rain fled deep into the earth, to burrow and wait for the next spring. Twenty-four hours passed with Oberon and Heather still under the castle. Jareth agreed to the dance idea, and set about preparing for a ball. Having already opened the doors of the Crystal Ballroom, he decided that would be the room used for the event. In a week's time there would be a ball. That left me a week to secure time alone with King Oberon to talk about Sarah.

I had found myself out under the pagoda again. The little shelter had become one of my favorite haunts where I would read or write out my thoughts in my diary. Even with the chill in the air that clung throughout the afternoon, I still went there when I wanted to be alone. I had the habit of recording as much as I could remember into the diary. When the day of the ball was only two days away and such a mood had come over me to steal away by myself, Hoggle found me. He timidly approached, his hands nervously jingling his jewels. "Lady Rebekah," he said my name with softness.

I looked up from the page I was reviewing. "Hoggle! Hello there!"

"Hello. May I come up and sit with you?"

"Of course." I made room for him on the bench. "I must say Hoggle, that what you have so diligently built impresses me."

"Bah! It'll look more presentable come spring time. Right now's all of the flowers is waiting, hibernating as it were."

"Did you put some form of enchantment on the flowers, or do all of the flowers talk?"

"Well most of them do. Magic lives here quite naturally, you know; it sort just seeps into things."

I considered him for a moment. There were things that I had so wanted to ask him at one point. I wondered if he remembered Sarah, or if he was willing or allowed to talk about her. He had been squeamish to talk about how the king had found me, but Sarah?- I wondered. I closed my diary, marking my place with my pencil. I worried my lip until it hurt.

"Hoggle, you've been a servant to the king for a long time, haven't you?" I asked.

"Ah yes! I've been taking care of this," he indicated the garden with an out stretched hand. "for going on some thirty years I suppose. I's was here before that girl…er, Heather, came along."

"I suppose you've even encountered the runners, the wishees as it were, who've come into the Labyrinth?"

He started playing with his jewels again. "Yes. I's try to avoid them though. Most humans aren't to my liking. You're alright, you know."

I smiled at him. "Well I like you too. Tell me was there ever a wisher named Sarah that you…might have… run into at some point?" I had finally asked the question. I was proud of myself, but almost scared too. Those brown eyes looked up at me, barely visible beneath those bushy eyebrows.

"Now why would Hoggle know anything about Sarah?" asked a male voice.

Hoggle and I both started and turned to find King Oberon approaching the pagoda. Hoggle jumped to his feet and gave a grand bow with a sweep of his arm, addressing him as "sire." I quickly dropped into a curtsey. I felt my cheeks flushed. Oberon had a look on his face that seemed to suggest chastisement for discussing Sarah; of course it could just be intense curiosity. Hoggle was making apologies, "Excuse me sire, I didn't know you were near by!"

Oberon raised his hand to silence him. "It is alright Hoggle. Why don't you go see about another section of the garden?" It was a command put politely.

Hoggle stammered off, leaving me alone. "Sire, I was just curious to know,"

He cut me off. "There is no law against talking about Sarah, though I am curious why you should be asking about her. Surely she is no concern of yours. Please be seated," he then said as he moved under the shelter and took the spot Hoggle had vacated.

"Unfortunately sire, she has become a concern of mine. You know why your son brought me here, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Brighton had cast a forgetting spell on the kingdom, one that could only be lifted by a silver-tongue mortal. So here you are, and here you stay. I checked the status of all the subjects and servants this morning Rebekah- everybody has remembered." He regarded me again with that intense curiosity.

I avoided his gaze. "What would happen if Brighton had broken a rule? Say that the forgetting spell had affected a royal." He continued his probing gaze. A nod of his head told me to go on, "I am still here, sire, because I have reason to believe Jareth has forgotten something immensely important."

"If such accusations were true, why doesn't Jareth bring a grievance before the High Court? I would hear him out."

Well, I thought, that is a good question; why would someone keep silent about a rule being broken, especially one as sensitive as a forgotten memory?

"Pride can prevent one from seeking help, and it is a delicate memory sire." I brought my eyes to look at him. I was trying to maintain composure. Here I was talking to the one Fae who could help sort this all out; could help put everyone's conscience to rest. If I were to find out the truth… it could mean the end of my duration in the Underground. I fought a shudder.

"A delicate memory… you mean it is a matter of the heart?" I nodded. I had begun worrying my lip again. "Tell me what Sarah has to do with all of this."

I was really struggling now. My lip hurt, sucked between my teeth. I took in a sharp breath. "Everything," I breathed out. I sought his hand. "He has forgotten her." I held onto his fingers. My breath caught in my chest.

He looked at me with that same intense expression, now mixed with wonderment. I thought, this is it; this is the shock, next will come the anger. He squeezed my fingers in return and brought his free hand to rest on my cheek. The intensity turned into something like sympathetic graciousness. "Why in the world do you think that?" he asked.

At his touch my feigned calmness began to melt. I blinked back the tears. "He remembers nothing about her; nothing! I am a silver-tongue mortal sire- I read out loud to remind- and I cannot remind him!" I touched the hand on my cheek. The tears began to escape. "I have failed the kingdom!" A sob shook me.

"Oh my dear young lady," he sought a handkerchief from his coat pocket. Lifting my face, he dabbed at the tears on my cheeks. "I would hear your whole story; yes from the moment my son came for you and the reason you think Sarah is important to him. There, there now dry your eyes."

I began my account; even drawing in the story book. I concluded with our agreement, pulling out the half moon pendant. "So I wear this as a symbol of our agreement."

"The half moon pendant," he touched it with fondness.

"What am I to do sire?" I asked another round of tears swelling in my eyes.

He patted my arm. "Firstly calm yourself. You have worked your self up to near hysterics. Here in the Underground," he then went on, once again supplying me with his handkerchief. "everything seems possible, and nothing is what it seems. The book is correct that Sarah did indeed come here in an attempt to retrieve her baby brother, and it is true that the king was in love her. It seems perfectly logical that Jareth would be that king; after all he is Fae and Fae live forever. However this book, The Labyrinth, falters on two great points." I looked at him questioningly. My heart was pounding in my ears. "Wrong time and wrong king."


	17. Chapter 17

_I live to accommodate my dear LadyVampyre666_

* * *

I had nearly fainted. My chest had turned tight and I could not catch my breath. Black spots dotted my vision. Oberon's arms were around me. His touch was like a soothing vapor- my lungs filled with air. He steadied me. My head was swirling with flashes of images; clips from day dreams; words snatched from conversations; pieces of writing; books I had read. All the while his voice spoke over it all saying, "Wrong time and wrong king." Everything reeled again. This time I heard his voice next to me, "Easy! Feel the warmth through your skin and into your lungs." There was warmth on my chest. It bloomed moving over my skin and seeping into my lungs. When I opened my eyes I realized he had been pressing his hand to my chest. He withdrew it.

For a few moments we just sat there. I concentrated on breathing. He sat poised to react if need be, but also relatively calm. "Everything," I started my voice sounding very far away. "everything has been turned upside down….oh, the years of day dreaming, the years of reading and admiring… We all thought….everyone thought that the two of them…and now… She is real… Sarah exists, but… What does it mean?" I gathered enough courage to look Oberon in the face. "What does it mean?" I asked again more confidently.

Sitting there in the fall sun, a few leaves briskly blowing by, and the weight of the revelation hanging in the air, he looked ancient. Not old and feeble, but like someone who has seen much and experienced more than they care to admit. He sighed. "The story of Sarah and the Fae King is old," he paused and added, "old and personal. The lot of them- Smith, Henson, Froud- all of them were touched one way or another, some more deeply than others. Froud has been a personal guest of mine on occasion."

I sniffed. "He admits to being able to see fairies."

He nodded. "Hmm, oh, yes, and much more than that. I have a fondness for him you could say. He's quite brilliant in his artistic accuracy. He's much like Heather in that his works keep us strong among the humans who have heart enough to believe still. He wanted a story, a coming of age story, a love story. I gave him one right out of my own life."

I considered his words. "Are you- are you trying to tell me that you…?"

He pointed a finger at himself. "I was in love with Sarah. Easy! Don't go fainting again. You of all people need to understand this. True love has been interfered with and the web must be untangled."

"But sire," I started, wide eyed. "how? You're not the King of the Goblins!"

"No, no I'm not, but for a very brief period I was. You won't find it written in any history book or on any tablet or scroll- it was very brief, all of a month. Sarah was one of a small handful of summonings I received that month. I did love her; still do to a degree. Froud and the group were well within their rights as writers to embellish the story and change a few things around. I was flattered that he chose my son, who by all accounts is better looking than me any way, to be the king." He smiled warmly.

I was still stunned. "I've really mucked things up haven't I?"

"As if you knew any better. There you are completely ignorant of your ability, in sweeps my son with all of the fan fair and charm, whisking you away to perform an exciting task. As if he knew any better! He never knew Sarah, but a silver-tongue mortal is saying otherwise. Naturally he believes you."

I wagged my head in absolute amazement. "I've got to figure out what I'm going to do. I should give the pendant back. By all accounts, our agreement is null and void- there was no memory to remind him of! But then that also means…" My voice trailed. It also means, my thoughts continued, that there is no prior hold on King Jareth.

Oberon's hand was on my arm. "Would you hear my advice? Keep the pendant. Begin to sort out your feelings. What I say next comes from a father, not a king: I have seen the way my son looks at you Rebekah."

I murmured, "Turn on your heart light… Sorry," I then said when I realized I had spoken out loud. "Random dream."

He regarded me. "If you say so. Take time for yourself before the ball. Now I think we should go in for tea. Your hands have grown quite icy." I picked up my diary and walked while leaning on his arm.

Over the next two days I completely secluded myself. Heather was alive with the excitement of the ball and the prospect of getting to properly glare at King Brighton. I avoided her by remaining shut and locked up in my own two private rooms and balcony. I spent a good deal of the first day lying on my back staring at the ceiling, sorting through everything I had once held as truth. Though a work of fiction, the story of The Labyrinth had always been told one way, one truthful way, and that was that Sarah ultimately belonged to Jareth and he to her. Now King Oberon, King of the Fairies, King of the Elves, King of the Shadows… now he laid claim to her. I wonder why she didn't stay with him? I thought, rolling onto my side. No matter I suppose… All of those fanfics and silly day dreams…

Then the realization of having not committed a mortal sin hit me; I had not interfered with true love. "Where does that leave me?" I asked the ceiling. According to Queen Delilah, King Oberon, Valery, Heather and yes, even my overtly suggestive subconscious, it left me with ample opportunity to put the moves on the king. To all of them it was obvious what should happen next. My insecurities flared. I balled my fists and pressed them against my eyes. Did they all really see love? Or just the blatant display of aggressive flirting; the raw sexual tension?

I wandered out onto the balcony. It was the afternoon of the day of the ball. Guests would be arriving soon. I would be expected to dress and make a proper appearance. Someone was raping loudly at my door. "Rebekah!" It was Heather. "Let me in kiddo- I've got a present for you." I opened the door. She held a smooth wooden box and a bouquet of roses. "From his nibs," she said offering them to me with a grin.

I took them. "Why in the world is Jareth sending me gifts?" I asked out loud. A note was affixed to the roses. "And how does one get roses in the dead of fall?" I unfolded the piece of paper.

"A little something to draw you out of seclusion. Please don't leave me without a proper dance partner- Jareth."

I set the roses on the vanity and opened the box. Inside was a silver necklace worked to resemble swirls, like mist. The metal met at the centre where another note was attached, "The half moon pendant will affix here." It looked as if the moon would sort of snap into place.

Heather was looking over my shoulder. "Wow!" And then she whistled. "Darlin'," she went on. "the boy deserves a good kiss for this alone." I shot her an annoyed glance. "Top the deal off with the roses…" her voice trailed.

"I'm a little speechless. I don't even know what dress I'm supposed to wear tonight."

"He took care of that too." She went back out into the hall. Meep came in with her carrying something that looked like a cloth garment bag. The two women cradled it between them, and brought it to the wardrobe where they hooked it on the door. I moved to release the dress. Out spilled a shimery white gown that flowed and swayed, and sort of sparkled as it moved. The empire waist was cut to accommodate the imposing necklace and pendant.

"Ghads!" I said touching the fabric. "I'm going to look like Queen Tatiana!"

"You had better not," said Heather fluffing the material out. "She doesn't like to be upstaged. Look like a queen though; a grand and confident one."

I looked from the necklace to the dress and back again. They were both by far the most beautiful things I had ever been given.

Meep dressed me with great care. I found myself extra fussy as well over the details. My hair had to be coifed just right; my makeup had to be defining not over bearing. After both Meep and Heather adjusted the pendant to the necklace and then set the strand around my neck, I took a soft cloth and polished away any finger prints. He had gone to so much trouble; beyond anything I could have expected of him. A faint smile crossed my face as I admired myself. Taking three of the roses from the bouquet I had Meep arrange them in my hair. Dang, I thought to myself, no whimpering or fussing tonight; I feel like a queen.


	18. Chapter 18

Though King Oberon's revelation had answered much regarding Sarah's visit to the Underground, it still left what occurred right before my arrival a mystery. As I readied myself to go down, I considered this. The impression had definitely been left that Jareth had seen more in me than my ability. Tonight though, I decided, wasn't the time for playing detective. Tonight I wanted to behave like a happy, normal woman; a woman who had a man waiting for her. I left with Heather rushing ahead of me.

At the top of the stairs I had a good view of Jareth waiting on the first landing. He had done it again- matching his vest to the color of my gown. His jacket was a midnight blue that was sheenly in the light. As I began the descent he turned and saw me. This time I did not want to run away and hide. If anything I wanted him to see me in the gifts he had chosen. He met me at the last few steps. "I see my gifts are well received," he said smiling.

"Jareth I…" I was still a little speechless. "It is all beautiful."

"I am glad that you like them." His eyes lowered and sort of surveyed me from my toes up. "The dress looks better on you than I imagined. With the way you had been hiding away these past two days I was concerned about you. Everything alright?"

I paused, choosing my words carefully before answering. "There were some things I needed to sort out." Looking at him I reached up with my hand to touch his hair- several of the strands were streaked with blue and silver. "You- you look absolutely handsome," I finally said.

"Thank you. You're tempting me," he then started, his voice with a slight sultry edge, when I hadn't withdrawn my hand. "to wrinkle that dress and smudge your makeup. We have a lot of Fae to greet tonight." Taking my hand, he kissed my fingers.

"Perhaps later then." The suggestion was obvious.

"Hmm, I certainly hope so." He escorted me to the ballroom.

The room was alive with light. Sheer tapestries lined the walls and the occasional mirror peeked out from the folds. All of the candelabrums had been polished and set with new candles. Strands of crystals were strategically placed to catch the light. The sunken seating area was covered in a rich burgundy velvet shade. Only King Oberon and Heather were in the room when we entered, as well as the servants. "Come along the both of you," Oberon said gently. "Our guests are arriving. Rebekah, stand there next to Jareth. Heather you are to stand next to her."

I felt Jareth's hand slide to the small of my back. "Just smile and curtsey to everyone, extending your hand." He leaned in close. "Those roses make your hair smell divine." My lips turned up at the corners. His hand slightly patted against me. Before I could half gather my wits again, the main doors to the ballroom were thrown open. Footmen flanked the entrance and I saw the first guest enter.

Fae love to parade them selves. I came to that conclusion soon after greeting the first arrivals. There was much pomp and circumstance to their walking, appearance, and salutations. Some where very friendly and would compliment my attire, remarking that it was nice to have such a proper mortal at their gathering. Others seemed to sniff at me and then abruptly walk away as if my hygiene wasn't up to standard. These in particular seemed to have a hard time mingling beyond certain groups. Then there came the moment we had all been anticipating- Jareth turned rigid at my side and Oberon's face turned to stone. Heather hissed under her breath. The Fae at the entrance was clad from head to toe in a gold suite complete with a lace collar and diamond topped cane. He had a permanently cocked eye brow and hooded eyes. He appeared bored and dissatisfied with his surroundings. He even had a hard time physically looking at King Oberon.

"King Brighton, welcome to the ball!" Oberon extended a hand courteously.

Brighton gave him half a glance. "Sire, thank you for inviting me. Health and blessings to you." He walked down the receiving line. "Jareth." It came out through his teeth.

"Brighton." His lips had barely moved. Both of his hands were balled into tight fists. Gingerly I touched his hand. "Welcome," he added brusquely.

The Fae looked like he was on the verge of sneering. "Health and blessings to you." His eyes roamed to me; they softened ever so slightly. "Greetings, Miss…?"

He made me want to squirm in discomfort. I fought the action. "Rebekah, Rebekah Clysdale."

Some how he had managed to secure my hand before I had even offered it to him. He leaned over it for much longer than I would have liked. "Pleasure Miss Clysdale." I felt his lips. I honestly thought I was going to gag.

"Lady Clysdale," corrected Jareth. His hand was on the small of my back again. "It's Lady Clysdale, if you please."

This time there was no mistaking the sneer that passed over Brighton's face. He ignored the correction, released my hand, and walked on. Without even stopping to greet her, he hissed Heather's name and mingled in with a select group. She looked ready to clobber him. Instead she turned and wandered off saying something about, getting right tipsy in the next five minutes.

Jareth exhaled sharply, and insisted it was time for a decent plate of food and a tall glass of wine. I asked for his handkerchief and wiped my hand where Brighton had kissed. "He is definitely cocky!" I muttered, handing it back. Tables were arranged along the walls where servants rolled carts by with little meals prepared on plates and glasses of refreshment. After eating my nerves were calmed. Brighton had really given me the willies. Setting aside his glass, Jareth stood and offered me his arm. "Dance with me."

I looked around at the couples already whirling across the floor. "Why not- you won't let me fall on my face."

"Never!" he promised smiling. He led me to the floor where we mixed in with the other dancers. Not only were my feet not tripping, but I was actually keeping pace.

"What did you do to my shoes?"

He winked. "A little enchantment for insurance's sake. You could dance with anyone and you would not falter a single step. Relax and enjoy yourself."

One step, two step. Forwards, backwards. Twirl. Backwards, forwards. One step, two step. Twirl. I saw the other dancers go by in blurs. The floor was full. Regardless of time or king, I felt like Sarah; dancing in the arms of the Fae King. One key element was missing though- he should have been singing.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked, gently squeezing my hand.

I realized I had a grin from ear to ear. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you have made me so happy." He tilted his head to one side quizzically. "The dress, the room, the necklace; even the enchantment on my shoes- you thought of everything to create a perfect evening. If you burst out in to song at this very moment, I don't think heaven could be any closer."

He laughed, delighted. "I wasn't aware that my voice was so amazing."

I realized the reference was lost on him. "Sorry- movie reference." I spoke the word 'movie' with emphasis. He nodded.

His arm around my waist tightened just a little. "Would you like me to sing for you?"

My heart skipped a beat. I glanced around. "What? Here? Now?"

"No one else would hear." He waited. I nodded ever so slightly. When he opened his mouth the words came out in a sort of poetic way, not quite singing, but not talking either,

"The words I have to say

May well be simple but they're true

Until you give your love

There's nothing more that we can do

"Love is the opening door

Love is what we came here for

No one can offer you more

You know what I mean

Have your eyes really seen?

"You say you find it hard

To lead the life that we once knew

But there's no other way

So now it's really up to you

"Love is the key we must turn

Truth is the flame we must burn

Freedom the lesson we must learn

Do you know what I mean?

Have your eyes really seen?"

My heart was all aflutter. The other dancers weren't even registering in my vision. The defenses were broken down. The enchantment was keeping my feet in check. He could have his way with me, any way that he wanted me, right then and there.

A hand came down on his shoulder. "I'm cutting in," said a voice curtly. King Brighton stood behind him. Jareth blinked at me as if someone had just poked him with a hot branding iron.

He smirked, keeping his eyes on me. "You can cut in only if it pleases the lady."

Brighton regarded him, sort of swaggering his shoulders. "It is not lady's choice Jareth. Mi'lady?" He offered his hand to me.

All of the refreshments I had thus far enjoyed threatened to dispense themselves on the man's shoes. I took a deep breath. "Mi'lord." Brighton nearly shoved Jareth aside and led me away.

He danced a little too close. He moved a little too sensual. His hands were a little too bold in their touch. I wanted to stop dancing, reach up, and literally put his eye brow back down with my fingers. He smirked at me. Surely this particular dance has to end soon, I thought to myself. Abruptly he pulled me a little closer. "Would it be considered too bold of me to say you are the most beautiful woman in the room?" he asked.

One step, two step. "Yes it would," I replied with out hesitation.

"You should learn to take compliments better," he reprimanded.

My skin was crawling. "I am not accustomed to taking compliments from complete strangers."

Forwards, backwards. "Then perhaps we should become more intimately acquainted."

Backwards, forwards. One step, two step. "You will behave yourself Brighton," I replied sharply. I was willing my feet to trip or slip; anything to stop the dance.

One step, two step. He pushed me against him and spoke into my ear, "I know what you are, and I happen to have quite the fixation on young, sassy mortals."

My stomach lurched. I was ready to slap him.

A hand came down on his shoulder. Bartholomew was intently starring at me. "I am cutting in," he said, and then offered me a little smile.

I didn't wait for Brighton to agree or step aside. I moved into Bartholomew's arms. "I owe you big time," I said relaxing.

"You most certainly looked like you needed rescuing. Dance this way. The song is almost over, and you look like you could use a drink." We moved to the far side of the room.

Bartholomew sought out a quiet corner for me to regain composure in. He brought me a glass of water. Quietly I vented for only him to hear. Quietly he agreed to all my sentiments. "That cocky, slimy, self-absorbed peacock! Oh I want a shower right now!"

He patted my arm and half laughed. "You handled yourself very well."

"Where has Jareth gotten off to?" Bartholomew pointed him out, dancing again. He was performing his duty as king by dancing with certain royals. He then asked if he could actually have the pleasure of a real dance with me. Back on the floor I felt a little self-conscientious as if the display with Brighton had caught the rest of the room's attention. The faces blurred by though and Bartholomew kept the conversation on subjects I could easily discuss. First it was admiring the room, then the well far of Peter and the other children; even a friendly jest about the quality of my vocal chords.

King Oberon had me on the floor as well. He didn't say much, but smiled at me and danced with grace. Brighton kept his distance for most of the night. Rather he seemed to stalk the edge of the dance floor. Other Fae men asked me to dance as well. One in particular complimented the half moon pendant, "It is wonderful to see that the king has found someone to wear it."

"Well, I am honored to."

"Perhaps soon we at the High Courts can expect an actual visit from a proper king and queen?"

I hesitated ever so slightly. "Perhaps," was my reply.

The dance over, I curtsied and made my way off the floor. I was feeling warm, agitated. There were balcony doors propped open at the far end of the room. As I made my way through the crowd, scenes from the movie flashed in my mind- I'm not running away Jareth, I thought reaching the doors. The air was sharp and it bit at my skin mercilessly. I stepped out of the light and leaned against a pillar. What in the world had Jareth told the High Courts? - I thought to myself. I admit I've definitely warmed to him since I've been here; he… he makes me want things I thought I'd never want from a man again; and he went to all this trouble tonight! I touched my forehead to the cool surface of the stone, sighing. Then again, I thought, I've more than warmed to him; I look at him and I'm just amazed…

"You could very well be a moon goddess standing out here like that." I turned and saw King Oberon walking out. "Even goddesses get cold though." He was at my side.

"Oh sire," I moaned leaning against him.

He put his arm around my shoulders. "There, there now young lady! Has Brighton been hounding you again?"

"Oh no, sire. I'm just… I'm just feeling such a mixture of things right now. I'm afraid to admit some things to myself."

He patted my arm. It felt nice to be dotted on for a moment. "Feelings and logic battle all of the time. We must eventually choose a side."

"Which side is the right side though?" I looked up at him pleadingly.

"When it comes to matters of the heart," he put a finger on the half moon centered on the necklace. "the heart is always right. I do believe my son is looking for you." As if on cue Jareth was in the door way. Oberon gave me a very knowing smile and slipped back inside.

"It is near freezing out here," Jareth was saying. "What are you doing out here, trying to catch your death?" He scolded me.

"I was feeling over-heated. Too much dancing I suppose."

"Too many Fae men who want to see the lovely mortal I'm holding captive."

I folded my arms and gave him a scowl. "You are not holding me captive."

He too folded his arms. "No… I suppose you're right. If anything the roles are reversed." I took my arms away. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Not quite so directly." I blushed.

"Then I'll say it again- you look beautiful." He took a step forward.

I touched his arm. "Jareth there's something I want to tell you." He stood there his hair glowing in the back light, his face soft in the moon light. When I didn't speak again he tilted his head to one side, and squinted at me. My thoughts sort of scattered. "Just," I paused. "I just want to thank you."

His face relaxed. He held my chin up with his hand. "I only wanted to make you happy."

"You did; I mean you have,"

"It's all I have ever wanted you to be,"

"Well, I am. I hope you are too."

"Nearly so." I felt his finger brush ever so gently over my skin. "Make my happiness complete Rebekah," he then whispered.

"What would you have me do?" my voice nearly squeaked. I barely registered his arm around my waist.

"You know what I want." His tone was sultry.

He was close now; close and warm. My arms tingled in the mixture of cold night air and his body heat. "Surely you must want more than just… that."

"I want you." 'You' was said with emphasis. Both his hands were at my waist- he squeezed and lifted me up against him. I held onto his shoulders, balanced on my tip toes. "You, yourself, your body, your soul- isn't that enough to want?" There was a pause. The voices in the ballroom seemed very far away.

I was breathing heavy against him. He knew how to draw out my passion. I managed to find my voice. "Do you want my heart?"

In response he pinned my back against the pillar and proceeded to kiss me hard on the lips. My fingers dug into his jacket, holding on tight. He knocked my breath out of me. Dizzy and stunned, I let him taste and explore. When he pulled away, he lingered close, and said, "Yes. You have mine." He guided one of my hands to rest over his heart.

Touching his face, I sighed relieved. I put my arms around his neck and pulled myself close to him. "Then take me Jareth."

"I am not used to appearing vulnerable." He roughly pulled me around the far side of the pillar. "Don't toy with me," he voice was threatening.

I drew up closer again. "I'm not." I kissed him. Cloves were strong in the air. He gathered me up against him, wrinkling my dress, and smudging some makeup. The pillar was against my back again and he was lifting me by my waist. He pressed his leg between my knees. The fabric of my dress pulled taunt and I heard the seams stress. I pulled away breathless and excited. "We are still in public, you know!"

"Like I care," he replied his eyes feral in the moon light. "I'd have my wicked little way with you here and now if I thought you would consent. What you offer," he then said, holding me tight, his hands gripping my sides. "do you give it freely under no duress?"

Under no duress, I thought to myself amused, no only under the pressure of your testosterone and all other forms of hormones you're causing to fly about right now.

His bent leg twitched as if impatient. "Yes," I exclaimed acutely aware of the sensation the twitch provided.

Satisfaction took hold of his features. "Come inside with me then- it's freezing cold out here any how- and allow me a moment." He released me. Certain parts of me seemed to whine at the lack of contact. "I didn't wrinkle you too badly," he then added as I checked my dress. I took his arm and we went in.

He sought out his father. Leaning close he whispered something in his ear. Oberon glanced at me and nodded. He whispered something in return; I caught the name "Brighton." Jareth looked down in thought before replying. His father nodded again looking very amused. Jareth then led me out of the room. "Couldn't have asked for better timing my dear," he said as we exited out in to the hall. "Brighton has apparently quite the ball already."

"He's gone?" I asked surprised.

He made for a turn in the hall. "Hmm, and that means no distractions." Once around the bend he leaned into me and caught me about the waist. One step back and I felt a shift in the air. Looking around I realized that he had transported the both of us to his room. I had never been there before…or had I?

Looking around there was something familiar about the sparse furniture. The curtains were still drawn away from the windows and moon light was falling over everything. I took a few steps away from him, trying to figure out my odd sense of déjà vu. I stood in a pool of moon light. I remembered how nervous and cautious I had been when Jareth had given me my own chamber, as if the items and decorations weren't really mine. Standing where I was I felt relatively calm. Jareth moved to the side and I heard the rustling of fabric. He had removed his jacket and thrown it over a chair. Moving behind me, I felt his fingers along my neck, working the release of the necklace. I heard the clink of the metal as he set it aside. I then felt his fingers slide around my waist, drawing me against him. "I've dreamed of this moment Rebekah," he said near my ear. "You're better than a dream though." Lips were along my neck, kissing. Spices wafted over me, tingling through my senses and into my veins.

"Ghads- you smell so good!" I exclaimed.

He turned me towards him and continued his assault on the soft skin my throat. "What do I smell like girly?" he asked in between kisses.

"Strong spices." I gripped his arms as he dipped me further back. "Like-like cloves and cinnamon. Ah!" I gasped as he lightly bit my collar bone. He paused briefly, as my breathing calmed, and then kissed back up my neck to my mouth. His lips were warm and soft. For a while we just stood there, kissing- soft kisses, hard kisses, open mouth, closed mouth. It was intoxicating just to kiss him.

He pulled away, smiling. "Much better than a dream. Come to my bed with me." His finger traced my jaw line.

I glanced towards the bed, elevated on a dais and draped in long curtains. Again that feeling of déjà vu came over me. He encouraged me to move, to take steps toward the bed. My stomach flip-flopped. The moment must have registered on my face: he stopped just short of the edge of the mattress.

"I won't force you to do anything you don't like. If you feel rushed, tell me I'll slow down." His tone was soft and concerned. He had me sit on the edge. "You have offered yourself to me, and I'll do whatever to hold you to it… so long as it involves you staying in this room."

"I'm just feeling a little out of practice, I guess you could say." He knelt in front of me and reached under my dress. "What are you," I squeaked, bracing my arms against the mattress as I felt one of his hands slide up my thigh.

"Relax." His hand had a hold on the top of my stocking, the other my shoe. In one smooth sweep stocking and shoe were removed. "You understand words Rebekah- their power to communicate, to remind." His hand was on my other leg. I listened, curious at his speech. I had never thought foreplay would involve talking. "Words have another power: the power to invoke or enhance feelings." Stocking and shoe came sliding away. He brought his face near my leg and kissed it lightly. "Gorgeous." I made some kind of approving sound. He kissed it again. "The sexiest leg I've ever seen." My leg was tingling all over. I closed my eyes and sighed as I felt his hand run up and down my leg.

Raising himself up, he laid me against the bed and lay beside me. He kissed my lips again, using his tongue to draw sounds and noises from deep within my throat. I kissed back and was rewarded with similar sounds from him. Pulling away he sought my ear. "Delicious." One word was all he spoke before he began worrying the spot right behind my ear. I had never been kissed like this before; I had never had someone so intent on my pleasure before. Oh he's determined, the thought ran through my mind. I started as he bit my ear lip lob. "Did you just nip my ear?" I asked breathlessly.

"Yes." He voice dripped with the pleasure he was taking from our situation. "I have a tendency to nipple on what I like, and I most certainly like you." He growled and took the lob again.

The sensation was over whelming. My toes curled. I gasped, and sort of shoved against his shoulder. "Whoa!" He pulled away and looked at me tentatively. "Sorry," I then said. "I am really out of practice. I like it; don't get me wrong…"

"It's alright." He nodded his head in an understanding manner. "We'll go at your speed."

He kissed my shoulder. When he saw that I accepted that touch, he kissed again. "It's just that there's this feeling that I'm getting; sort of explosive and edgy. You're making me want to arch and moan."

"Hmm," he sounded amused. He was kissing along my chest. "It's called an arousal my dear."

I put a hand in his hair. "I don't think I've ever quite felt this way before."

He sort of nuzzled against my breasts. "Taking a woman without awakening her passion is cruel." He kissed me through the fabric and then raised his head to look at me. "No wonder you fended me off."

I lowered my eyes. "I was never properly loved."

"You were never loved at all," he replied matter-of-factly. He kissed my nose. "I cannot promise that we'll always have earth moving or life altering sex, but I can promise," He tilted my chin up forcing me to look at him. "that I will always do my darnedest to give you that explosive feeling." He smiled, a little mischievous. "Help me out of my shirt?" Agreeing, we sat up. My silly woman side rolled with glee, wide eyed and eager, as I helped him undress. "Share and share alike," he then said motioning for me to turn around.

I wanted to sit there and admire his body; reluctantly I turned my back towards him. Having worked the back release, he also let down my hair. "Lie down," he then said. The skirt detached at my waist, he slid it away from me. I laid there stripped down to my under garments, all lacy and girly, feeling vulnerable, excited, apprehensive, and giddy all at once. Having tossed his own shoes and socks away he turned and hovered near me. His eyes ran the length of my body. When he repeated the same motion again, my apprehension got the better of me.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, trying to hide the edge in my voice.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, "You." He lay on top of me, resting on his elbows. I felt his hands in my hair. "I'm looking at you, you beautiful woman who belongs to me." I put my hands on his bare skin, feeling his back muscles. "No one else will ever touch you; no one else will ever love you- do you understand me?"

"Only if you understand the same goes for you- I don't want any other woman enjoying you either. You are mine." I grazed his lips. "Are we agreed?"

He lightly kissed me. "I'll hold you to it forever."

His body moved against me proactively. My body arched in response. "Done!" I exclaimed, holding on to him.

"Done," he agreed taking my mouth.

We were naked before long. He said things, sweet words, enticing words that worked at my apprehensions until they melted away. He said other words, sultry words, sexy words that reminded my body how to enjoy pleasure. When he joined with me and I felt him deep inside, everything turned hot and tingling, skin on skin alive with electricity. Instinctively I clung to him. I could have actually sworn that we were glowing; that light was running through my veins and into my heart. Words turned into sounds that still held meaning. Panting and dizzy, we collapsed together in a tangled mess of blankets and limbs.


	19. Chapter 19

Laying there in the dark I listened to him breathing. Part of me wondered wildly what I had gotten myself into- going to bed with a man, not just any man a Fae! My silly woman side turned resourceful and told the opposing side to shush- there was no one else to compromise other than myself. My ear was against his chest: his heart beat mixed with his breathing. One of his hands was lazily tracing circles against my back. Gradually his breathing grew shallow and his hand lay still. It felt as if he had fallen asleep. I gently pulled myself away and turned to quit the bed and the room. His hand caught my wrist before I had gone too far. "Where are you going?" he asked softly.

"You sounded like you were asleep."

"And?"

"Don't you want me to go then back to my own bed?"

"No." He sounded puzzled. "I want you to come back over here."

"Really?" I sounded surprised.

He tugged on my arm. "Yes."

I moved back beside him. "I was never allowed to before."

He hugged me against him, planting a kiss on my head. "You are allowed and encouraged to stay in bed with me." I felt his fingers smoothing my hair.

I lay against him for a while again enjoying the sound of his heart and breathing. The stillness of the room was soothing and comforting. I wondered what o'clock it was and whether or not the ball had officially dispersed. At the moment- the place, the time, and the instant- everything felt calm. I was lying beside a Fae man who I had studied and learned the history of; that had been my fantasy and near obsession; who for the past month had shown me who he really was. I knew him now as more than words in a book or a story.

Heck, I know him in the biblical sense now, I thought cheekily, right now this is good, it is wonderful, but what happens tomorrow?

Trusting that he was still awake I spoke into the darkness, "The first man I ever gave myself to was the only man I had been with until you. I thought I loved him." His fingers ran down my hair in soft caressing strokes. "He seemed an alright guy and never complained about being with me or driving me around. I was happy to be taken out by him- he was pretty good looking. This went on for a couple of months- not really dating or courting… however you want to put it; just him picking me up and us socializing with people." I paused. I felt his fingers. I sighed. "One night…he," my voice caught in my throat.

"You don't have to tell me," he offered calmly.

"No, I want to tell you; you need to know. Right now we're fine, you and I; we're still in the after-glow. There's going to come a time though- whether it's in the morning or months from now- that things won't be fine. I'll flinch at some movement; or seem offended at the silliest comment, and you'll need to know why." My voice had risen in pitch and acquired a slight shake. His fingers moved along my hair, consistent. "He said I owed it to him… for all he had done for me. I was a naïve twenty year old and thought… 'Well, he has done a lot for me and he's willing to use protection…so why not thank him by giving him what he wants: sex.' It's not like I'm completely devoid of hormones myself, so I do it." I was quietly crying on his chest at this point. "He never stayed with me or allowed me to sleep in his bed. You know, it didn't matter to him whether or not I climaxed." At that he slightly whistled under his breath. "Looking back on it, I realized how infrequent we had done the deed- some six times! And never once did he say anything loving, except in the throw of the moment where he gushed that he loved my body! My body- not me!"

I lay there- naked and exposed- crying and feeling foolish. His hand had stopped running over my hair. His chest rose and fell. "My first time," he finally said. "was with a nymph who didn't want to stay with me. As soon as we were done, she gathered herself up and vanished. There I was a young boy, coming into my own- I wanted to explore and understand a woman's body. It was a year before I saw her again. The same thing happened, except this time I complained to her about her leaving me. She said, 'Jareth, you silly thing, this is the way it is done! I take from you, you take from me, and once we get what we want we go our separate ways.'" He paused and snorted. "I've been with a handful of women, a small number compared to most Fae, and most of them all treated sex the same way- take what you want and leave. It's not I want though." He raised me up to look at him. I was still wiping my eyes. He looked at me for a moment- hair tussled, wet cheeks, and a slightly running nose. He sighed sharply and said, "It is my desire to have you here, in my bed every night."

I snickered. "You know I do have a certain degree of moral standards, Jareth. You want me in your bed every night you best start proposing now and situating the wedding for very soon."

He intently looked at me. His eyes narrowed. "I do believe I took care of that already. Maybe not with the usual speech and asking for your hand, but nonetheless….Rebekah, you're an intelligent woman," he added as I looked at him puzzled. He rolled me over onto my back as he continued, "Well read in our ways, I know you felt it."

Still I looked at him searching his face in the dim light for what he was referring to. Casually he pulled away the sheet that was covering me, laying a hand over my left breast he bent near and whispered, "I turned on your heart light."

My mind quickly began sorting through files and pictures. The first word that leapt out was "light"- it had felt like light was rushing through my veins the moment he had joined with me. That memory was found and quickly associated. Then "heart light" popped up. My dream- I had told him that my heart light was glowing.

But what does that have to do with marriage, I thought, Fae don't necessarily marry, but they can and often do take life mates…. Oh ghads….

My eyes widened as the pieces came together. I sat up on my elbows. "You bonded with me, didn't you?" My tone was crisper than I had intended.

He smirked. "Yes." He seemed quite pleased with himself. Kissing my head, he used his hand that still lay on my chest to push me back against the mattress. "As if I could have stopped myself from it- you were here, ready and willing." He proceeded to kiss along my cheek and neck as if he had explained it all perfectly.

I was not so easily put off. I had just bared my soul to him- all my insecurities about my past- and he had bonded with me. "You should have asked me!" The edge in my tone was on purpose. I shoved up and sat looking down at him. "I mean… bonding is for life! It's the same as marriage to a Fae. Now… I- you should have asked me!" I snapped again.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, alright I could have asked you, but to what end- to have you tripping over propriety and refusing me? Oh yes that would have enhanced the mood wonderfully!"

"It was misleading of you and you know it!" The situation was making me panic-y.

"You came in this room and into my bed of your own free will. I specifically asked you!" His tone was irritated.

"Oh yes, you did very well ask me," my voice dripped with sarcasm. "while trying to shove your knee between my legs."

He sat up. His face was very serious. "I told you on two different occasions: that you were mine and that you would one day come willingly to me. So tell me truthfully- were my intentions so dishonest? Did you ever doubt what my plans were for us?" I didn't answer him.

My mind was racing over all of the repercussions of his actions. A bond was for life. When a Fae bonded with a mortal, that mortal was tied permanently to their realm. Living in the Aboveground was out of the question now. "Woman," he was now saying. "I gave you my heart." Moving near, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and nuzzled my head. My hair fell around me, shielding my face. "Have I made you unhappy?" he then asked his tone full of concern.

I wasn't unhappy… I was in shock. I was carefully considering my reply. "No," I finally said. "It's just- it's just that this isn't how I ever saw things happening. I mean, I grew up with the little girl notion of a proposal with the guy on bended knee and a white dress."

"You're thinking like a human."

"And you're thinking like a Fae."

"True, but it's one of things that you love about me. We both agreed that we were going to be exclusive to the other. I wasn't about ready to treat you like a concubine." He kissed my head, running his hands over my arms. "Admit it- you like the idea of being mine."

I shuddered with delight under his caresses. "No less so than you like the idea of being mine as well."

He sounded like he was purring. His arms tightened. Finding my ear amidst all of my hair he said, "I love the idea. I'm even more thrilled with the reality of it. Come here." I turned towards him. He laid me back down. Touching my cheek he let his eyes run over my face. I suppose there was still a degree of apprehension in my eyes.

Can you blame me for feeling shocked, I thought to myself, as much as I like it here… what you did is forever….

He smiled, sweetly. "Rebekah Aura Clysdale… will you stay with me and be the consort to the King of the Goblins?"

I started laughing- light and airy. It was too surreal. "Oh, Jareth!" I exclaimed.

"Wait!" he was then saying. He moved away from me, shoving covers and blankets away. "Have to do it right then, or there'll be no end of it." There in the middle of his bed, naked in the moon light, he took a knee in front of me. "There! Oh blast- I haven't a ring right now! No matter. Rebekah Aura Clysdale- will you marry me?"

I was laughing and smiling uncontrollably now. I subdued myself and knelt in front of him. I kissed his cheek. "Yes."

"Things are a little out of order according to human traditions, but to please you, how do you feel about having our honeymoon right now?" He suggestively wiggled his eye brows.

I pursed my lips, toying with him. "Technically we all ready had our honeymoon."

"Ah, it is still technically our first night together though. Honeymoons last for much longer than one round!" He was on me before I had time to react and we fall backwards together.


	20. Chapter 20

We slept late. Half of the night dancing and the other half in his bed, had left me exhausted. But I was happy. Happy didn't even encompass what I was feeling. It was something like contentment. He moved in his sleep, throwing an arm over me, and drawing me against him. He mumbled something that sounded like "Good morning" and settled again. I knew that had to be more like the afternoon, but I didn't bother correcting him. At the moment, the bed was holy ground and I didn't want to leave the peace it offered. I closed my eyes.

Perhaps another twenty minutes passed and he stirred again. I heard him move off the bed and his soft foot steps across the floor. I peaked out from behind my eye lids and caught sight of his bare form moving into the washroom. I smiled to myself- he did have quite the body. I rolled and stretched, yawning. Water and food never sounded so good. I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. Being an exhibitionist was definitely not on my agenda. His shirt was the only thing I was able to locate. I had pulled it over my head and was stretching again when he came out. He had a nice silk robe on. Putting his arms around me, he indicated the shirt and said, "Very sexy. I don't think you need a robe at all."

I kissed him. "You know I,"

I was cut short by someone yelling frantically, "Jareth! Your highness! Jareth! Your highness!"

A series of doors opened and slammed shut. The chamber's door flew open and Bartholomew came crashing in waving a sheet of paper in the air. I yelped and Jareth shielded my exposed body with his.

"Bartholomew!" he roared. The physician glanced hurriedly around. "Knocking is a common courtesy!"

It seemed to just register in Bartholomew's mind that Jareth was not alone. He gasped in horror at his mistake and turned around. "Oh my- the blessed moon! Forgive me Lady Rebekah! I was not aware that you were both indisposed." He was breathless and talking urgently.

"What do you want?" asked Jareth.

"There's a message from the border- the head guard sends word that Brighton's men have moved onto our lands!"

Jareth's body turned rigid. My breath caught in my throat. He glanced back at me. "Bartholomew, go out into the sitting room. I'll join you in a few. At the moment I'm not disposed to give you another sneak peak at Rebekah." The elf left and shut the door. Jareth walked back into the washroom, calling out as he went, "Find some of your under garments at least!" I began looking around the room. "Sorry but it appears our honeymoon will be cut a little short." I had pulled on a few of the garments when he came out carrying another robe. "Here, put this on. We're in this together now."

I smiled. "You mean you want to share kingdom affairs with me?"

He smiled in return. "You're second in command now. Come on, let's find out what our cocky neighbor has gone and done."

Bartholomew was still red in the face when we joined him in the sitting room. Jareth ordered tea and some food from a servant, saying he wouldn't be able to think straight until he had a little nourishment. In the mean time the elf gushed apologies again. I stilled him, and encouraged him to speak on the matter at hand. The tea arrived and having been poured, Bartholomew explained the contents of the note. Jareth took it from him as he spoke, "They moved just this morning. It's a fairly large army- mainly Trows and Uruks; there's even rumor of a few Eliefants. They haven't progressed far. The border guard reports that they haven't even met their current station."

Jareth paced- tea in one hand and note in the other. "Who ran the message?" he finally asked.

"Squeak- she's the fastest. She left the camp at ten this morning and we received the message only ten minutes ago."

"Time now?"

"A little past noon."

Jareth smiled with something like pride. "She hasn't lost her touch."

"Is two hours remarkable?" I asked.

"It's a day's march to the border between us and Brighton," replied Jareth. "Squeak is the fastest runner in the whole Underground. The man has Eliefants!" he harshly said under his breath. "Alright… we prepare to march then." He rang a bell. He went to a desk and retrieved paper. He continued to speak to Bartholomew, "I'll need you to round up your best assistants- keep the group small. As well, alert your kinsmen." The servant arrived as he finished writing. "Find Squeak and have her deliver this to Captain Broag- tell her I want her to run her fastest." The servant dismissed he turned his attention back to the elf, "Where is my father?"

"He's in his own room I believe. I had not told him yet."

He seemed to consider what to do next. "Are you going to involve the courts?" I asked cautiously.

"I'll leave that up to my father. So far Brighton hasn't broken any laws, just ticked me off. Go Bartholomew!" The elf dashed from the room.

He finally stopped pacing and moved towards a window. Setting the note and tea side, he stood there starring. I sat my own cup aside. Well it can't be romance and mystery all of the time, I thought standing up, He is a king after all. I went to him. Sliding my arms around him I asked, "How long until you march then?"

"We'll ride at first light tomorrow. Rebekah," he turned towards me. "you are to stay here. I dare not even think to ask you to come with- a Fae battle is no place for a mortal."

I knew he was right. I hated it. "I know," I conceded. "Do you think you'll be gone long?"

"I should think not. I am confident that Brighton has been over zealous and probably isn't well prepared. I'll be expecting you to be waiting for me upon my return," he added and then crooned, "My queen!" He was kissing me- long and sweet as if there were not any pressing issues at hand. Pulling away he said, "Coronation or not you are now second in command. To the bog with any un-retrieved memories- I will only have you."

Ghads, I thought uneasily as he hugged me, I haven't told him and apparently neither has Oberon! He was asking if I was hungry. I nodded yes. A battle was a day away and we had bonded- the bog take Sarah indeed! I couldn't bring myself to talk about her. I sat down to eat.

Oberon looked eerily calm. His face was controlled and his jaw was set. His eyes- his eyes were ice. Jareth and I had met him for council in Jareth's study. Jareth had related the contents of the message and had given it to him for review. He also made it quite clear to his father that he was leaving me behind to see to things and that he intended to ride at first light. Oberon stroked his chin and claimed the right to call on the Landstriders. Kooky, another Froud connection, I thought standing in the room listening to them talking. Oberon then offered to stay behind with me to help me get acquainted with ruling. "I thank you sire," I told him. He soon left to see how many elves Bartholomew had been able to gather.

Standing in the room with the waning light of the afternoon shining through the windows, I felt my first real twing of fear. The two of them had such calm determination- as if going into battle was no different than flossing one's teeth. I had confidence in Jareth's abilities, no doubt, but it was still combat. Naturally my mind played flashes of scenes of World War II epics- firing machine guns, dropping bombs, and men screaming and running for their life. Fae were not invincible. I found myself seeking to say something to Jareth; some words that would express what I was feeling. We were now waiting: how many elves would serve? How many Landstriders were near by? How many goblins could the castle staff spare? All of the waiting made me tense, anxious. He was standing behind his desk, his hands spread before him, leaning in thought. I went to him and touching his arms said, "You will be careful?"

"Of course," he replied, turning to half lean half sit on the edge.

"You will come back to me in one piece?"

His eyes surveyed me. "What is this- are you anxious for me?"

"Terribly. I don't want to end up a young widow." I paused surveying him. "Though I'm sure there would be plenty of other Fae men willing to step up."

The corners of his mouth turned smoothly up. "No other man could keep you satisfied, Fae or not," he added reaching for me and pulling me against him.

"Oh are you so sure of yourself?" I kept a playful edge- anything to ease my nerves.

"You're mine, remember?" He had moved himself from the desk and had me in the vacant spot in the time it took him to speak. His eyes locked on me and that one eye brow rose up. "I am the only one suited for you."

I inhaled the spices that were always present when I was this close to him. My hands rested on his chest. "Cocky," I quipped with a smirk.

"Just so!" The innuendo made prevalent by his one smooth action of pulling my right leg up and around his waist. He leaned his whole body in, holding my raised leg with one hand and his other bracing my back. He was close enough to kiss, but he paused just short of my lips. "My, my, is your breath a little short?" he then teased.

Yes it is, and it's all your fault, I thought as I met his sexual challenge by throwing my other leg around him.

"My, my is some one afraid of a little competition?"

"Competition? There is no competition! I'll be coming back to you girly," he leaned in further, still keeping his face at that achingly close distance.

"You had better," I spoke with intensity. "I haven't the patience to acquaint myself with someone new. You're enough of a handful."

I heard something clink and fall over as I nearly became parallel with the desk. "I'll be back, and when I am I expect to be rewarded for my patriotic services." He grazed my lips.

Oh this is so much better than worrying, I thought happily.

I felt him beginning to slide away from me. I squeezed my legs around him and held him fast, pulling him against me. "Don't stop. I- I am afraid for you," my voice was airy. "And all of this waiting, this impending departure… Jareth, I don't want to loose you."

"And you won't." He dropped the sexual over tones. He held me there on the desk, intimately situated. He stroked my arm. "I know what I am doing. Trust me. I'll only be away for four days at the most- a day to ride there, two days to set things right, and a day to come home."

I lent forward and kissed him, full on the lips, hard and begging. My back met the desk and we lay there, bent in two, kissing each other. Something about this battle was not right. It nagged at me. So I kissed him, speaking unheard things into his mouth. Whether he understood or not, or even felt the same unsettling nature of the looming battle, was lost on me nor did it matter. When Bartholomew came knocking on the door, yelling about elves and Landstriders, he picked me up and rubbed my nose affectionately. "We'll finish this business later," he said. He moved away allowing me to drop to my feet. "A nice private dinner, just the two of us, and I'll stay with you as long as I dare to before joining the company. Smile for me Rebekah." I did, as best as I could.


	21. Chapter 21

That night we spoke very little. He had been with the elves and goblins for the rest of the day. There was much clamoring and yelling: those gathered looked anxious for battle. The elves were regal in their armor, showing harmony in shape and form. The goblins looked half-hazard with their make shift helmets and weapons, but they stood together as one. All of them held the king's colors. I prayed that there would not be any untimely summons. In those last few precious hours of day light I spent my time with Heather reviewing some basic Underground laws. She was woman of immense knowledge and patience. Without hesitation I named her my main advisor. Come the evening Jareth and I both comprehended the weight that had fallen over the kingdom.

Lounging together on the small couch after dinner I enjoyed the soft crackling of the fire. The weather had turned bitter cold. He had his pipe and after very little imploring from me he brought back to life the graceful smoke dancers. They tumbled and twirled before my eyes- still holding me just as captivated. They smelt like cherry blossoms blowing freely in the wind. He made them dance while smiling. I closed my eyes, breathing deep the scent. I wondered to myself if I peeked out would he be intently leaning forward close as he done that one night- challenging and tempting me. Lingering over the thought I lay back against the cushions.

He moved away from the couch, standing. I heard the soft tapping as he knocked his pipe clean. The fire hissed and crackled. He was again on the couch, leaning near. Opening my eyes I saw him reclining, smiling. He looked unabashedly happy sitting there. It made my heart swell to see him so. He looked care free as if there was no impending war. How does he live so well in the moment? I asked myself.

"You're staring girly," he quite suddenly said. I blinked. "You just can't keep your eyes off of me can you?"

I smiled faintly. "Your ego never ceases to amaze me." Then adding more sweetly, "Just creating a good memory for while you're away."

His face showed concern. "Come, come now." His hand was at my cheek. "This uncertain gloom of your's is so unlike you. Where is that fire that I adore?" I shrugged, not understanding my near faint heartedness. "You're a brave woman."

"Am I now?" I asked sincerely.

He nodded leaning his face closer. "You came here, into the unknown, trusting me to keep you safe. You have dealt with creatures other mortals would have fled from. You even danced with the enemy," he added his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Now myself, though a king, I," he paused. "I have need of your bravery." Something moved through his eyes- it was near scared and very vulnerable. I dared not press the matter. His eyes flickered away. When they looked at me again the expression was gone. Gently his thumb ran over the skin of my cheek. "I have need of your fire." I felt his lips softly on mine. It was a tender and imploring kiss.

I looked at him. My hands twisted his shirt. "I don't know how to be brave right now."

In response he kissed me again- more imploringly, more filled with desire. My heart pounded loudly. He pulled away while moving his body still closer. He took my hands from his shirt and brought them around his waist. "Make love to me as if we had all the time in the world. No kingdom affairs, no laws, no wars…"

"No kings, no threats, no impending departures," I added.

"Just time and lots of it. Give your fire to me Rebekah. Give to me." I lifted my head seeking his lips.

He relinquished control that night. He encouraged me to use him for my own benefit; to utilize his body for my pleasure in order that I would kindle my own fire. At the time, lost amidst limbs and blankets, I was unaware of the lesson he was teaching me. Confidence needs control, as much as control needs confidence- the experience both excited me and left me fumbling at certain moments. I had to listen for as well as feel his responses; my actions and reactions influencing the motions. There would come a moment though when I would have to act alone, make a decision, and execute it. Straddled against him, I finally made the decision and time lost all boundaries and it was just the moment of intense, sweating, breathing, pleasurable passion. He looked up at me again with that honest and open look of happiness- living in the moment. I lay on top of him and held him close.

Time soon resituated it's self and he was dressing to join his men at arms. I accompanied him as he walked out. The air smelt of battle- spears, armor, swords, and horses. Men bowed as we passed. We found ourselves standing under a covering, where Bartholomew and his kinsmen were seeing to some last minute provisions. Jareth called for his armor and several goblins appeared and helped secure the hard leather casing about his chest. I stood there slightly shivering in the pre-dawn air. Then King Oberon was there and the company gathered as close as they could near and around the covering. Jareth moved close to me- I could smell the leather and spice- and rested a hand on my shoulder. King Oberon spoke, "Hear me, my children!" he called out. "You all are going to battle, a fight which you will perform with honor and dignity. You who are here do not bear the sword or arrow in vain. Protect the land you love! Protect the king you serve! For the Underground!" He punched a fist into the air and the company jeered and yelled in response. Everyone dispersed very quickly after that. I heard horses hoofing and neighing. Jareth turned me towards him. "Four days- I swear," he said taking my face into his now gloved hands.

"Kiss me and be gone before I loose control."

He gave me half a grin. "Gladly." I felt his lips and tongue all at once. Then he was walking away, not looking back or hesitating. I watched him mount his horse and ride to the front of the company. Oberon was at my side. "For the Underground," I whispered.

The castle was far quieter than usual. I hated it. I had Oberon and Heather both join me in Jareth's study. I couldn't just sit around and wait, I had to busy myself. Despite my total lack of sleep I wanted to begin going over more laws. Heather looked at me questioningly. "Don't argue with me right now," I snapped. "If I don't occupy myself, I'll just sit around worrying. Come on- what do I need to know?" Scrolls and books were pulled out. Oberon began giving a brief over view of standard practices and acceptable behavior.


	22. Chapter 22

Twenty four hours passed. I was exhausted and very nearly over whelmed. My stubbornness refused to back down, so betwixt it and my curiosity I plowed onward. Not that there were many disturbances or decisions to be made that first day. All of the kingdom's attentions were on the war. One farmer approached the throne: he seemed a little surprised at first at finding a woman instead of the king, but made his request most politely. He wanted to change the day of a cattle drive during the spring. I ruled in his favor after a brief council with Heather. He complimented the half moon pendant around my neck as he bid farewell.

That night was a struggle between sheer exhaustion and awkwardness. Heather had insisted that I sleep in the king's chamber. The bed felt large and empty; the room chilly and unwelcoming. Half way through the night I returned to my own, original chamber. Meep was most confused in the morning- not finding me in Jareth's bed, she immediately thought something had happened to me and began to sound the alarm. Bleary eyed I stumbled out into the hallway to calm everyone.

Another day went by. By Jareth's calculations they would be meeting Brighton's men by now. The weather continued to grow colder, such that we hoped it would snow and encumber the advancing army. I stood outside in the gardens watching the clouds. I was dressed heavily in thick garments and a fur lined cloak. Briefly I wondered what the weather was like in the Aboveground; whether Valery would be planning her annual holiday party, or if she and Eddie had gotten back together. The clouds loomed low and threatening. I went to my pagoda, now barren and devoid of plant life or talking flowers, and sat down. She'll probably try to call me, I thought again on Valery, and ask me to bake a turkey; Eddie will probably be learning a new carol on the key board….

I quite suddenly was feeling extremely home sick. Alone under the pagoda I cried, feeling inanely sorry for myself. I had wanted to be strong for Jareth; to prove that he had made a wise choice in me. At the moment though all I could think about was how anxious I was for him- his safety- and how I wanted a familiar face, someone who had known me for years to be near to comfort me.

There was a sound like a twig snapping. Quickly I brushed my cheeks, wiping away the tears. If someone was walking near by, crying was the last thing a subject needed to see me doing. Another snap. "Hoggle?" I called out. "Hoggle is that you?" I asked when no one answered. I stood up. Looking down either side of the garden path, no one was about, it was empty. I felt the hand over my mouth before the hands on my wrists. I had made half an attempt to pull away, to only receive a sharp blow to the stomach. I gasped against the hand that held my mouth shut, struggling for a good breath.

"You scream," hissed a masculine voice at my ear. "and I'll knock you unconscious."

Another set of fingers, boney and rough were tying my hands together. I only half believed the threat and tried to scream in alarm. My arms were yanked back on with sharp force, knocking the wind out of me again. A swarm of black dots invaded my eyes.

"I warned you, you silly mortal. Come along now!" he said keeping me arched back. Some creature, small and swift was moving below my waist, around my ankles. I was being bound. "Someone wants to see you." In one smooth movement the hand was gone and a wad of cloth was being secured in my mouth with a gag.

Kicking or punching was useless, so I squirmed uncontrollably. The taller creature swore and cursed quietly at me, trying to get a good hold of me. He very soon had me tossed over his shoulder, but not before bracing me against his body while some one else blind folded me. I heard him snicker as I thrashed against his shoulder. "Come on Thrasher- his majesty awaits!" said a high pitched voice. I felt movement, as if we were jogging away. I bounced hard against Thrasher's shoulder bone, feeling more and more breathless and dizzy. Panic was in full force. My silly woman side was screaming and running in circles, no longer smiling, but wailing. Thrasher tightened his hold on me, helping to ease the otherwise incessant bouncing. I was thoroughly disoriented.

Eventually I did pass out. It had become impossible to catch a good breath. The first thing I became aware of was a dull ache in the pit of my abdomen; the muscles were sore. Next I realized my blind fold was gone and the sun was setting. Then I heard the hiss and crackle of fire. Turning slightly to my side I saw that my capturers had made a fire- Thrasher sat off to the side, his long legs bent up; the smaller one seemed to be amusing himself by jumping up and down on one leg around the flames. We were in a clearing that looked nothing like anything I had ever seen in the gardens. Nothing looked familiar, nothing smelt familiar. Attempting to swallow my panic I realized my mouth was still stopped up- it felt dry and itchy. I began to cough. The small creature was at my side, speaking above my coughing, "If I let you loose for a drink you had better not scream! Thrasher will knock you unconscious!" I nodded, not caring about the threat. He untied the gag and the cloth fell out of my mouth. I drank from a cup he offered- the water was cool and sweet. "Bothersome mortal," he complained taking the cup away. "I don't know why he couldn't have just transported us all back at once!"

"Too much magic draws attention," replied Thrasher not turning to look. "He has to wait in between uses."

The little creature mimicked him, whining at the words, "Too much magic…blah, blah, blah… draws attention… Bah!"

"Easy there mate. He'll come for us soon enough."

"It's so cold! If he wanted her so bad, he should have fetched her him self!"

"Perhaps," started Thrasher turning his head slightly, enough for the fire to reflect in his large round eyes. "you would rather be spinning straw into gold?"

The question seemed to irk him. He tossed the cup in the other's general direction. I knew of a fairytale creature that spun straw into gold. "Rumpelstiltzken," I murmured under my breath.

"Ah!" he said grinning. He posed with flourish. "You know of me then?" I nodded. "Yes, I suppose you would," he continued picking up the gag. "You mortals did rather think something of the Brothers Grimm, but why they ended the story in such a way is beyond me- I can't tear myself in two!"

Listen for responses, make decisions, and execute them. "Just who exactly wants to see me?" I ventured to ask. Rumpelstiltzkin actually looked as if he were about to answer when Thrasher promptly exclaimed to shut me up again with the gag. He complied mumbling and mocking the other creature.

With the sun down, the air turned to ice. The clouds over head looked pregnant with their moisture. Thrasher drug me, undignified by the arm, closer to the fire, saying that I must be delivered in good health and in one piece. I scowled at him, yanking my body away from his touch. He merely snickered, giving me decent shove closer to the flames. I landed awkwardly on my side and lay there too mad, too scared to move. My nervous, faint hearted feelings about the war came to a full head when a rider appeared at our little camp. I recognized the swaggering gait. I saw the raised eyebrow in the fire light. No screamed surged within me. All I could do was glare, threatening to shoot daggers right out of my eyes. King Brighton leaned near and grinned wildly at me, "Hello my sassy young mortal!" His tone was congenial and arrogant all at once. "My but you're looking just a little disheveled. Stiltzken! Thrasher!" he then exclaimed. "Arrange for our guest to arrive safely in our lands." He looked at me- his eyes meandering over my face and body with meaningful flicks and darts that made me want to vomit. I was forced to sit on his horse with him mounted behind me. Thrasher and Rumpelstiltzkin flanked either side and touched the horse. In a blink the forest was gone and we were approaching a court yard.


	23. Chapter 23

I was blind folded again. After my first glimpse of the court yard, Brighton had covered my eyes, lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary next to my ear. He seemed as if he were sniffing me and finding way too much enjoyment in the act. I elbowed him, which he merely laughed at. Having untied my ankles, I was led through a series of twists and turns. I tried to pay attention to at least the smells around me, but I couldn't distinguish anything.

Roughly I was tossed down into a chair and tied in place. One smell finally became distinct- Brighton was looming right in front of me. I made my best attempt at a scoff by forcing air out my nose. "So very sassy," he was saying. He put a hand under my chin, forcing my head to remain up right. "Careful my lady, I rather like defiance," his tone was suggestive. "I am going to remove your blind fold, but the moment I find you disagreeable I will put it back."

I blinked adjusting to the light. First I saw his chest- lace embellished shirt with pearl buttons and a fitted deep purple jacket. He looks like a frickin' magician, I thought biting my tongue to not verbally lash out against the gag. He stepped aside. I saw a grand fire place to my right- it was ridiculously long, encompassing just about the entire wall. To my left there was a dark wood table that ran about the same length as the hearth. The chair I was sitting in was pulled away from the table and angled away. Food and drink tempted my senses. I bit down on the inside of my lip. I found a spot on the floor and focused on it.

"I hope you are warming up now," he said moving to my side and setting a hand on my shoulder. "My servants are rather harsh and brash; thoughtless to the softness of a woman. It is rather late in the day, I am sure you could do with some refreshment." He snapped the fingers on his other hand- abruptly the chair turned towards the table and pulled me close. Now I could smell the food as well as see it: there was a roast, a bowl of some vegetable, as well as a pie that looked like some form of meringue. It all began to work on my senses. My lips moved against the gag and my fingers flexed where they tied. "Oh how silly of me!" he exclaimed. He leaned near. "You're still all tied up." He reached across the table. Using his finger he scooped out some of the filling from the pie and deliberately paraded in front of my eyes before sticking his finger in his mouth. "Delicious!" I rolled my eyes. His face turned hard and bent near my ear. "Listen to me my lady and listen well: the only way that you will get a crumb or so much as a drop of water is if you do exactly as I say. My designs are not to poison you or harm you; I have need of your," there was a pause during which he ran his finger that had just been in his mouth down my arm. "… special talent." Exasperated with his dramatics I waved my hand towards my mouth and made some sound. "You scream and there will be consequences."

He snapped those fingers and the gag fell away. I coughed and sputtered for a moment. "Alright, what exactly are your designs then?" I asked.

"You're going to help me win this war."

I wrinkled my eye brows and looked at him incredulously. "Why would I do that?"

"People will do just about anything to survive." He sat in the chair next to me, cool and confident in his manner of thinking.

I wanted to laugh at him. "You do realize who I am right? I am the consort to the Goblin King- bonded with the high king's blessing."

"Oh yes- the bonding; I smelt that on you earlier. It's a weak bond- easily broken I'm sure."

That hurt more than all the rough physical treatment I had endured up to this point. I inclined my head towards him, "Forget it!" I hissed.

Angrily he stood and leaned over the table. With a wide sweep and another snap the food was gone and all that was before me was a piece of bread and a glass of water. The bonds on my wrists loosened free. "That is all you will get until our next conversation. I highly advise you rethink your position my lady." The next instant the surroundings turned dark and he was gone. All that was visible was the portion of the hearth behind me and the setting before me. I ate the bread and drank the water.

Time seemed inconclusive in the room. My ankles were still tied to the chair and it would not budge away from the table. So I sat there in my sparse light with thick blackness surrounding me. After what I figured was an hour I came up with enough courage to use my voice. I muttered hateful things into the silence- I cursed Brighton; I cursed all of the Fae and their mischievous ways; only to then curse my "talent" wishing that I had never been given the gift. My bottom and back were sore and numb from sitting. I wiggled, cursing Brighton again. "When I get out of here I'll pop and toss those pearl buttons… No better yet I will stuff them down his throat! Then I'll set fire to his entire wardrobe- burn all of the tacky velvet suits!"

It seemed that another hour must have passed. I knew that I had to be missed back at the castle. The alarm had to have been sounded. What were Oberon and Heather going to do? Would they send word to Jareth? That thought upset me. My being held captive might serve as a horrible distraction; what if it was enough to cause one fatal maneuver? Don't be silly, my mind chastised, th king is smart enough to not waver on the account of woman. True, but, I argued back mentally, emotions can cause brash actions. Emotions! What emotion could he possibly have for you that would cause brashness? My mind awaited my next thought. I shifted in the seat.

"He has love," I said aloud.

Yes love, my thoughts rushed against my panic, and what does love give you? It reminds you how to be strong and gives you courage and determination beyond what you thought possible! How did it go in that one: love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love! I shifted again, raising my head. My stubbornness felt revived.

There was the sound of a click in the darkness. Brighton appeared to my right at the edge of the darkness. He was still clad in that ridiculous magician getup, except now he also had his diamond topped cane. Snapping his fingers the chair pulled away from the table and swirled towards him. Several strands of hair fell over my face. I blew them away and regarded him with indifference. "I hope I gave you enough time to think," he said strolling in front of the fire. The light from the flames grew stronger; more of the room became illuminated.

"Oh you have," I answered resolutely. I realized my wrists had been secured again.

"This is good to hear. Perhaps you now realize that I mean business. I have no qualms against semi-starvation and isolation."

I met his eyes. "Neither have I."

He stood there regarding me with a faint smile on the corner of his lips. "Really now?" he asked after a pause. "You do realize that you lost an entire day in here? My forces have seen and met with the goblin army, and have found them lacking."

I had lost the whole day? I had figured two hours at the most. I bit down on the inside of my lips and held my face composed.

"My Eliefants shall stomp their Landstriders; my trows shall pierce the elves," redness crept in to my cheeks. "And I shall have the privilege, nay honor of humiliating King Jareth."

Part of my composure slipped. "Cocky!" I quipped at him, to then bite down hard again on the soft inside of my mouth.

He went on as if I hadn't said anything. "And you my dear," coming near he braced a hand over my head against the chair. "shall enable me to wipe out the goblin realm and claim the Labyrinth."

My nostrils filled with a heavy perfume that made me think of some sort of French cologne. Underneath it- yes, there underneath it smelt musty. I choked on a gag reflex. Think. Decide. Execute. "What," I began drawing in a deep breath. "do you think I will do for you? What use is my talent to you and your inane war?"

"Aaahh, now we're getting some where! I have need of your voice. I have something," he ran his hand down my arm. "that needs reminding."

"Stop touching me!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself.

"No- I shall not."

I fought the urge to squirm wildly. Don't give him any satisfaction; don't let him see you panic. "You can't force me to talk!"

He leaned closer. "I'll devise a way my lady. Believe me."

He caressed me along my jaw line. "I said stop touching me!"

"Make me!" He crushed my lips with his. I gave in to my long over do squirm and did the next best thing I could think to: I took his lower lip and bit down. He shrieked, tearing his mouth away. Staggering back he put his hand to his lip. I braced myself for the slap or cheap shot to the stomach. Instead his wiped the spot where I had bit and began to laugh. No- it was more of a chuckle. "Oh my lady!" He looked way too pleased. "You are a treat! Too bad business matters are pressing, otherwise we'd be about something far different right now." He turned away from me while retrieving a handkerchief from his jacket. "Perhaps there will be time. With your disposition you may enjoy some of my other inane pass times."

"I know the laws that rule your kind- I am bonded and loved by another! I will never give myself to you!"

"Bonded- they can be broken you know. I intend to do just that, but," he folded the handkerchief and turned to face me again. "only after I have put your talent to good use."

"You stuck up, dirty, cocky, pig! The bond can only be broken if both parties are willing! I'd rather die, be dipped in the bog, or face the Fire Swamp than have you touch me!"

"Fire Swamp?" he looked quizzical. "Whatever the duce that is! I have ways of persuasion." He turned and the room grew dark again.

"Pig!" I yelled after him. Again I was left in seclusion.


	24. Chapter 24

Tried as I might to have fought the urge, sleep eventually took me. Fading in and out of consciousness I felt restless, often starting from a dream screaming into the surrounding darkness. Valery and Eddie were being tortured- my eyes flew open. My head throbbed and my eyes hurt- I knew I was dehydrated. Sleep came again. I dreamed that Brighton had prevailed against the goblin realm and I stood, naked, watching as a trow beheaded Jareth. I saw those mismatched eyes starring at me blankly. Starting awake I gasped and pulled at my bonds, struggling to free myself.

As I calmed myself I realized that I was not alone. A hobgoblin was attending the table, laying out breakfast foods. There were scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and (yes, I could smell it!) coffee. The creature's beady eyes regarded me. Awkwardly he bowed and told me, "Master says enjoy!"

At that all of my bonds fell away and the chair slid smoothly up to the table. I looked from the food to the hobgoblin. "I don't trust your master." He seemed unsure how to respond. Using my freed hand I shoved the plate towards him. "Taste it for me."

"You want me to eat it for you?" the eyes gleamed.

"I want you to taste it for me. Here!" I began to push half of the eggs onto a smaller plate. He hesitated for a moment and then with all of the grace and composure a hungry hobgoblin has (which is about none), put his face into the food and began to eat. When neither vomiting nor convulsing occurred, I took some bites of what was left on my plate.

Giddily laughing the little creature cleared his portion, burped and turned to leave. "More things for you to enjoy coming later!" he exclaimed before another fit of laughter. He was gone.

As soon as I was done eating the room lost some of its oppressive darkness; light seemed to be slowly filling the room. With the light the space did not seem so immense. A door at the far end part of the fire place opened and a servant girly appeared. "This way mi'lady," she beckoned. I tried my legs: they were sore and heavy. Stiffly I walked towards her. Stepping aside to let me pass I entered a room decorated in golds and reds. It was the sort of room one would picture a vampiress seducing her next victim in. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. The girl approached a large closest at the far end of the room. "Master says enjoy!" she exclaimed pulling on the handles. The doors flew back revealing a full wardrobe of dark colors. Examining the garments I found them to be revealing: gaping at the neck lines, some completely sheer, others with slits so high you couldn't bend over without exposing something. I grabbed the doors to slam them shut. The girl looked very shocked. "But they're gifts!" she insisted. "You must wear them." She forced the doors open.

I furrowed my brow. "While I breathe I will never wear those dresses especially not for your master!"

No sooner than I had said the words then other door opened and three more servants ushered in. One of them carried a hefty looking case. Setting the item on a table all three of them beckoned me near. All of my hair was standing on edge now. Coming close I watched as one of them unlocked the case: inside were several strands of diamonds. Each servant took a piece and presented them to them- one was a necklace, the other two bracelets. "Master says enjoy!" they all said in unison.

Master says, 'bribe the mortal with pretty baubles', I thought rolling my eyes. I took the moon pendant in my hand and squeezed it. "Tell your master: no thank you!" Their eyes turned worried and confused. One by one all of them left, including the girl.

When the lunch hour arrived, servants appeared with carts laden with trays. I was presented with sweets: chocolate covered fruits; toffees; creams, and parfaits. The beverages were either rich coco or something that bubbled like Champagne. I made them bring me water to drink, but alternate food there was none. I looked at all of the sweets, the delicacies, and frowned. What sort of person did Brighton take me for? My clothes were dirty and wrinkled; my complexion ash-y, and my stomach empty. He was trying to appeal to all of the usual cliché desires of a woman. I shook my head, convinced that any of these last ploys were probably laden with charms to seduce me to concede to his plans. Taking my cup of water I sat down in one of the chairs. I drank and waited.

Brighton soon enough entered the room. He first saw the untouched food. His eyebrow seemed to arch further up. Next he saw the precious jewelry still spread out on display. Lastly he saw me in my rumbled state. I looked at him feigning indifference as well as strength. At the moment my blood sugar was dangerously low and my body's internal temperature kept fluctuating. Calmly I took another sip of water. He stepped near me. "So," he began playing with his cane. "I see that my gifts do not please you. No matter," he added when I offered no response. His eyes floated around the room. Taking the cane in both of his hands he said, "I have something I want to show you." My eyes turned shrewd. "I could have already raped and killed you by now had I desired. Follow me." He turned to leave.

I took my time following, saving my body's resources. We exited the same doors the servants had used earlier. The hallway we moved into was sparse and sloped downward where it eventually turned into a ramp. There were no windows or other doors to mark the way. As we descended he spoke, "I have as good as informed you that I have need of your special talent. You are a silver-tongue mortal, such a rare and beautiful thing."

"Flattery will get you no where," I snapped.

His tone remained even. "The compliment was for your talent, not so much your looks. Though indeed I find you lovely to behold." We had reached a well secured door. Having muttered several phrases over the handle, the doors swung away at his touch. "Behold," he began with gusto as we walked in. "My secret weapon against the Underground!" I looked and blanched.

What I saw shall forever haunt my dreams. A giant head was balanced on a long slithering neck with eyes like luminous black pools and a mouth that had no lips only razor sharp teeth. Its body was dragon like, had such a dragon been kept in a murky place and developed slimy scales. It was a monster. My breath caught as it laboriously raised its disproportioned head to regard us. Permissively it dropped its head again, making a strange animal sound almost like a cow. "What-what is it?" I managed to ask.

Brighton approached the creature. Laying a hand on its thick forearm he replied, "He's the Jabberwocky." I repeated the name as a stunned question. "The one and only; last of its kind; the one Lewis Carroll knew about. Oberon had the darling's memory erased." He fondly reached his hand up to the creature's face.

"Why?" I still kept my distance.

"The Jabberwocky proved to be too much to handle- he was ravaging the country side. Apparently he was too much even for the adored Goblin King. His father had to come rescue him by taking away all of the creature's memories, thus zapping its strength. Pity."

"And you think that I'm going to just remind it? Or what- you'll feed me to him?"

"Nonsense my lady. If you don't I'll feed your friends to him."

"My friends?"

He snapped his fingers. One of the walls of the room seemed to thin revealing a hidden chamber. Inside were two figures suspended from the ceiling, their arms tied above their heads. My heart nearly exploded in my chest.

"Valery! Eddie!" I cried out. I made to dart towards the wall.

Brighton was on his feet and had his cane braced against me. "I don't think so my lady. Like I said people will do anything to survive, especially if it's their friends' lives that need saving."

My anger mounted. "You…You vile, arrogant, son of a,"

"I could kill them now," he interjected. He raised his hand and poised his fingers to snap. "Read for me and they'll go free."

I looked from him to the wall- they hung there so still. "If so much as one hair is missing from either one of them…"

"They'll be returned, safely and all intact. Read for me!"

My anger turned in to frustration. Tears stung my eyes. The Underground or my friends? His hand twitched. "I'll read for you."


	25. Chapter 25

The bargain included far more than just my reading. It came down to me behaving like a submissive pet: wearing one of the dresses and the jewels he had presented me; only speaking when spoken to and all such nonsense. I was writhing in anger on the inside. He made me feel dirty with his little caresses both vocal and physical. He reminded me of all the reasons why I had denied myself of touch for so long. By the afternoon he had me primed like a sluty lap dog. Looking at myself in a mirror I chocked back tears.

The deal became worse when Brighton informed me that we were going out to meet the goblin army. Jareth had pushed his forces back across the border and now was the time to unleash his secret weapon. He gave me a piece of parchment to read from- it included the first part of Carroll's descriptive poem, enough to remind the beast. I read over the familiar words- I had read Carroll's account of Alice's adventures several times, it had been part of a seventh grade literary assignment. "As soon as we are done, as soon as the words are out of my mouth, our deal is done!" I snapped at him as I joined his group. He pinched my cheek and shook his head amused at my disdain.

"Behave yourself, my lady," he chastised. "Save your fire for my…productive activities." The party left the castle, marching or riding on horses.

The air was bitter cold. Patches of snow were scattered across the field. On my horse I saw over the heads of his men, saw out to the horizon where Jareth and his army waited. Within several hundred yards of each other, the two opposing sides halted. Brighton ordered me to dismount. Coming to the front line, I saw Jareth. His face was dirty and his countenance stern. He looked at me in my revealing dress, shivering in the cold, and audibly scoffed. He dismounted his own horse and signaled two goblins to follow. Bartholomew emerged as well. I glanced at Brighton with his clean nose stuck in the air. He glanced back at me as well and sneered. I bit my lip and tried to conceal a shiver. He turned to greet the goblin king. "Hale King Jareth!"

Jareth stood legs apart, ready to act. "Hale King Brighton! Have you come out to surrender, to give back my royal?"

Brighton snickered. "Hardly! Your royal," he repeated the words nearly chortling. "As one can clearly see," he began circling behind me. "Rebekah fits rather well into my world." He hovered near running a hand along my shoulder. I fought the urge to elbow him by picturing Valery and Eddie. I closed my eyes. "I'd like to keep her, if for any reason for her unique talent."

"Brighton enough of this foolishness!" Jareth commanded, unsheathing his sword. "Let Rebekah go and let us deal with each other- Fae to Fae, a regular Wizard's Duel."

He nodded at me, indicating to me to reveal the parchment with the words. "No Jareth," he said stepping away from me. My hands shook holding the paper. "I will finish this, but on my own terms." Brighton looked at me, his hand on my shoulder squeezing and pinching my flesh harshly. "Read Rebekah!" he ordered.

I looked past him to Jareth. The tears had returned to my eyes- one or two escaped as I looked. His eyes regarded me with curiosity. His cheek flinched. Quietly I whispered, "I'm sorry!" and lowered my eyes to read.

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe."

There was a thunderous sound that shook the earth, filling the air.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!"

A screech pierced the cold winter air. I heard horses neighing in terror and several men exclaim in surprise. Behind me there was a scattering of feet and hooves. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brighton grinning enthusiastically at the sky. There was the sound of giant wings swooshing.

"He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And stood awhile in thought.

"And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!"

Over head the monster flew, screeching down at the gathered fae. I looked up, crying and shaking. I distinctly heard Jareth's voice ordering his archers forward. Brighton was laughing like a maniac. He reached his arms up towards the Jabberwocky in adoration. "Behold your death Jareth!" he exclaimed.

I went to my knees, crumbling the parchment in my hands. The commotion was great around me. I looked at the words scrawled in perfect penmanship- those accursed words! I would never remind again! I would never speak again if need be! Where's a blade to go snicker-snack when you most need it? I thought miserably.

A blade.

I looked up. Jareth had his sword drawn and was waving it in defiance of the beast. Bartholomew was at his side with his own blade drawn.

Scrambling to my feet I recalled my seventh grade literary assignment- I had to memorize The Jabberwocky by Lewsi Carroll and recite it before the whole class. Something snapped inside me. "One, two! One, two! And through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack," I mumbled to myself. "The vorpal blade went snicker-snack…Jareth!" I yelled above the noise. He saw me. "The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

"He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back."

The creature gave such a cry that pierced my ears. It swooped down and landed between the two armies. His weight caused a small earth quake- we all teetered in its wake. He seemed to literally sneer at me and then turn it's attentions to the goblin army. The words rushed from my mouth,

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

He chortled in his joy."

Jareth's bellow of sheer animalistic urgency could be heard over the cries of the monster. I saw his blade in the sun light charging at the monster. Bartholomew was next to him, his own blade arching in a death blow. Both of them swung towards the looming head. Brighton, realization showing on his sadistic features, turned to me. Grimacing he let one of his hands fly across my mouth, preventing me from saying another word. In the same moment he dealt a similar blow that sent me to the ground. I hit my head against the cold, hard ground. Just before the blackness I heard Brighton screech and the creature roar.


	26. Chapter 26

I walked a dark passage, unsure of my destination. I just knew that I had to keep moving; that someone worse than Brighton, something worse than the Jabberwocky was following me. Before me in the dim light the path shot straight out, walled in on both sides. Occasionally same random debris was thrown awkwardly across the path- I stepped over these tree branches or other such random objects. I kept walking. My head pounded and my limbs were heavy. I had to keep on though; no one would find me here in this secluded space if I stopped. No one would hear me scream. Wearily I lifted my legs and went on.

Eventually I stumbled over a tree branch. I went down to my knees and didn't get back up. I was ready to rest my head against the old, decaying wood, and go to sleep. Gently I felt a hand on my arm. Forcing my eyes open I looked up- King Oberon stood looking down at me with a smile on his lips. He knelt next to me. "Rest my dear young lady, rest." He gathered me against him, laying my head on his shoulder. He smelt of fresh linen and cool water. I relaxed against him.

My first conscience memory was a bright, flickering light. My eyes adjusted and I saw a table with a candle. Illuminated in the light was Oberon sitting with his chin resting on his chest, lightly asleep. I glanced around the space- it looked like I was in some sort of tent. At the flaps, a soft grey light came through. My mouth was dry and I began to cough. Oberon was at my side with a cup of water, gently raising my head and helping me drink. The water helped me relax. Then some sweet liquid was poured between my lips and I fell off to sleep again.

The next time I opened my eyes I had the distinct feeling of moving, as if I was sort of hovering along. Part of me wondered if I was having an out of body experience- watching the clouds pass over me. I began to cough again. Someone yelled, "Bartholomew!" and the moving came to a halt. The physician's face appeared above my head blocking out the sky. He had water that he helped me to drink and then administered a draught of liquid that tasted syrupy sweet. "Rest easy Rebekah," he said smiling. I saw that he had long scratch across his left cheek. "You're on your way home."

I managed to raise my hand to touch his arm. "Tell me," I sounded hoarse. "did we win?"

He touched my hand, giving my fingers a squeeze. "Yes, yes we won. Jareth is resting right now. He beheaded the Jabberwocky."

At the mention of the king's name my whole body cringed. It was good to hear the king was well; it was reassuring even. Part of me was just reeling in the thought of coming into contact with him. I retreated my hand from him. The expression on my face must have registered as pain to the physician, as he prepared another draught immediately. I waved him off weakly. "When-when will we be home?" I asked.

"We should arrive by night fall. The sooner we get you home, the better off you'll be. Rest now." I dreamed that Jareth had tamed the massive Jabberwocky and was leading the monster by a leash. The monster didn't seem to mind the encumbrance though; it patted behind the king like a pet. Coming near to me, he offered the control of the monster to me. "The beast is tamed Rebekah," he said with a look of happiness. "and willing to be with you." He offered me the leash, but as I moved to take it the chain morphed into a long snake that hissed at me. I started away in alarm.

I saw glimpses of the castle through my eye lids. The feeling of exhaustion was beginning to irritate me. Brighton hadn't necessarily starved me; I hadn't been beaten. Yet my body was behaving as if it was infected with the flue virus. I heard goblins celebrating the victorious return. An elf's voice rose with song.

I felt softness engulfing me. My skin welcomed the sensation. Slowly I opened my eyes to see whiteness, like pure light surrounding me. I lay on a bed with white sheets and I wore a gown of pale grey. The place felt safe, removed from any potential harm or any cares. Something fluttered in the corner of my eye that could have been wings or rustling fabric. Focusing I saw Jareth at the bed side. He too wore an outfit of pale greys. He stood slightly away from the edge of the bed with his hands clasped. "Is this a dream?" I asked. When he shitted his weight, I felt my skin crawl ever so slightly.

Was that concern or kindness in his eyes? Either way he said, "Yes, you are dreaming."

"I've been so tired," I then told him. Even in this dream my limbs refused to move leaving me frustrated. "What's wrong with me Jareth?"

He let his eyes fall over me. I wanted to squirm. "Rebekah, your body doesn't want to wake up; it doesn't want to remember how to feel." He spoke softly.

My eye lids closed as I considered this. What had Brighton done to me? Reminded me of all the reasons I had avoided touch for so long. This was Jareth though- I had accepted him, right? When I opened my eyes again his body had moved to the foot of the bed. Furrowing my brow I said, "I'm afraid, Jareth. I'm afraid to be touched again, to be felt, to be… to be loved."

"Your body is confused. Remind it."

In response my skin broke out in a million goose bumps. I arched my neck, straining to move. "What am I supposed to do?" I exclaimed.

This time I saw his presence flicker away from the foot of the bed back to the side. The process made my eyes ache. His voice was every where all at once, "Remind it!"

Alright, I reasoned with myself, this is my dream; start dreaming about something…I don't know, sensual; dream about him naked; dream that he's on top of you just stop this insanity!

"Brighton misused you; confused your body between love and lust." He leaned very near. His body heat was just enough to cause my stomach muscles to tighten. I fought to use the tension to my advantage. "You have to want me."

I looked him in the eyes and then began scanning the rest of his body. I had already accepted him. No half quacked, cocky bored fairy king was going to ruin my chance at love. I had already gotten over my insecurities once… I can do this again! "Help me," I pleaded with him. "You reminded me once before of how wonderful touch could be; how rewarding intimacy could be. Brighton has no power to make me stop loving you."

He leaned in closer, near my face, near my lips. "Don't tell me that." I smelt spices, wild and enticing. "Tell your body."

The goose bumps had subsided, instead I felt warm all over. It's your dream Rebekah, I thought again. In a blink his shirt was off and he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at himself and then smiled slyly at me. Not good enough, I closed my eyes and focused my imagination. I recalled our first night together; it had only been what?- a week ago. My fingers twitched and slowly my hands rose up. Remember, how gentle he had been; how determined. I found his arm and coaxed him towards me. Opening my eyes I realized he was on top of me, his body against mine. "That," I began touching his face. "feels right."

I thought for sure he was going to kiss me. He looked at me, his eyes all ablaze. "Remember you're still dreaming. Best wake up and call for me." With that the light seemed to be sucked out of the room.

Startled my eyes flew open. I sat up, looking around, feeling frantic and strange. Gasping I looked around- I was back in the castle, in Jareth's room, in Jareth's bed. No wait- our room, our bed! My skin was alive and tingling. If I didn't find him soon my insides were likely to jump out. I began yelling out his name. "Jareth! Jareth! Where are you?!" The door to the room flew open and he appeared. He may have been slightly limping as he hurried across the room; his face was concerned.

"I'm here girly, I'm here. What's the matter?" He was at the bed reaching for my hands.

I wasted no time in putting my arms around him. He felt so wonderful. I hugged him close.

"Oh Jareth!" He smelt of nutmeg and cinnamon; cloves and mint. I squeezed him tighter.

"Easy there girly!" Pulling away I saw he was wincing. "I'm still healing. Oh, I'm so glad to see you awake." He ran his hands along my neck and shoulders. "I was so worried about you. You have been in and out of consciousness for nearly three days."

Had it really been that long? My hands ran along his arms. His skin was so smooth and delightful. Only partially heeding his caution of healing I kissed him full on the lips. Taking his face in my hands I held him captive against my lips. He made some noise deep in the back of his throat that sounded both pleased and surprised. All of the energy that been surging under my skin seemed to centralize in my gut, growing like an igniting nuclear war head. It wanted to explode; needed to explode. He returned the kiss catching up quickly with my need. Roughly I pulled him to me, falling back on the bed. He grunted and broke the kiss. He seemed to grit his teeth. "You're making demands on a wounded king girly," he smiled slyly. "and while it is nothing life threatening and I'll gladly oblige your demands, I would like to make sure your well before entertaining such physical excursion."

I pulled a face and pshawed him, and proceeded to ignore any of his concerns. He seemed ready to chastise me and climb off the bed. "No don't do that!" I exclaimed holding him fast. "Look," the bomb was ticking. "I just spent several days with a Fae who would have had me and tossed me aside; a selfish, over sexed… idiot. I'm telling you," I pushed myself up to be face to face with him. "to fix what he tried to destroy. No more words! Now make love to me before I toss you back and mount you myself."

Concern seemed to turn into desire on his defined features. He gave me one shrewd look as if to make sure of my resolve and then proceeded to grin most feline like. One of his hands snaked under my head while he held himself steady with another. "Gladly." He kissed me deep and long; it tasted like a drink of sweet wine. When the bomb exploded instead of screaming, my body sang in the release.

I didn't allow for words until we were spent and lying twisted and naked among the sheets. Even then the words chosen were few. He briefly explained what had happened after I had been knocked unconscious- the battle with the Jabberwocky had been swift all thanks to my remembering the words to the poem. His men were then upon Brighton's grounds and inside his castle where they found Valery and Eddie, heavily sedated under a sleeping enchantment. Thank all the powers that be they were unharmed and returned to the Aboveground safely. "To them it will seem as if they had a bit of a nightmare, a dream."

"Can we visit them soon?" I asked, disappointed that I had not been able to see them before they had been returned to the Aboveground.

"Christmas time, the holiday season in the Above is happening quite soon, I should think it would be a good time to visit them. I know you're not disposed to too much talking at the moment," he went on. "but there is some kingdom business that you need to be aware of. In two days we are to appear before King Oberon at court, for judgment and sentencing of the prisoners of war, as well as to review our own actions. You will accompany me, as my wife and queen." He leaned over me and caressed my cheek.

I smiled at him. "And you as my husband and king… my king."


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

King Oberon's court was an immense room with chandeliers and stained glass windows. The colored light that cascaded upon the assembled enhanced the Faes' naturally colorful auras. Admittedly I was a little intimidated by the display. In private after Jareth had hooked the necklace set with the half moon pendant about my neck, he smiled and kissed my forehead murmuring that his queen was a sight to behold. "How could the court possibly find any fault with you?" A little wary I told him that there had better not be any reason for them to. He placed his newly fashioned pendant around his own neck and smiled most secretively. Together we descended the isle approaching Oberon sitting on his throne upon a dais. A strategically placed window illuminated the high king's head in a halo of blue light. The back of the throne seemed to grow arms of hazelnut that created antlers emerging from the crown of his head.

The king greeted us both with obvious yet respectful favoritism, placing a finger to each of our pendants. To our left the prisoners of war were brought in with shackles and guards. Glancing to the right I saw a man who must have been a scribe remove a fresh piece of paper. Next to him stood another who regarded those gathered with a scrutinizing eye that flickered from the prisoners, to Jareth and I, to the king. It was judgment time. Looking back at the prisoners I saw the nimble Runplstiltzken and the towering Thrasher. Jareth gently squeezed my hand. "King Jareth of the Goblin Realm and of the Labyrinth," began Oberon extending his hand palm upward. "you come here today claiming victory over the lands of the now deceased King Brighton. How do you justify your claim?"

The room was silent. "King Brighton crossed into my lands with men at arms and Eliefants unprovoked," came the response. He never broke eye contact with his high king and father. "He proceeded to kidnap Lady Rebekah Aura Clysdale from my own house- he sought to do her and my kingdom harm."

The man on the right stepped forward. He addressed Jareth, "Was there any previous indication that Brighton wished to engage in war?"

"Jeptha, he cast a forgetting spell on my subjects, as well as my self."

Oberon eyes wandered to me. I could not look at him. "Tampering with a royal's memory is a forbidden thing," Jeptha continued. He looked at me. "Is that the reason you brought Lady Rebekah to our realm?"

Jareth showed the slightest sign of irritation; just a flinch around the eyes. "A silver-tongued mortal is the only thing that can lift a forgetting spell as well you know Jeptha. The fact is that it was cast and without retaliation on my part, Brighton proceeded to march on my lands. As to his actions towards Rebekah- they were most improper."

There was a bit of commotion among the prisoners. I heard Rumplestiltzken's distinct whiney voice mocking Jareth's words, "Most improper! Bah! Mortals are fair game!" He hissed between his teeth. Someone heard his words and passed them through the crowd. As King Oberon quieted the people, Jeptha requested that the little man explain himself. The mischievous little nuisance gladly obliged, "I said she's a mortal! Mortals are fair game in our realm to be wooed or seduced at leisure!"

Jeptha faced Oberon. "He speaks truth your majesty. How is the kidnapping necessarily a crime?"

I felt my cheeks flush and my body involuntarily started toward Jeptha. How dare he…! Jareth stayed me with his hand, indicating that vindication would be mine if I remained patient.

Oberon seemed to regard the Fae who was acting like something of a defense attorney with wearied eyes. "Perhaps Jeptha you should direct your question to my son and the lady on his arm."

Jareth remained cool and confident as the man inquired about our relationship. A slight smile played on the corners of his mouth as he answered, "It is a crime for we had bonded not more than two night's prior, with the High King's blessing as he was staying at the castle at the time." A good deal of murmuring began to take place again. "I appointed her queen before I left for battle."

Proudly and with a good deal of relief I smiled in his direction.

Jeptha was not satisfied. He seemed quite agitated and exclaimed, "Without a coronation though-!"

Jareth raised his hand to still the man. "The law does not state that a coronation makes a royal. It is mere tradition."

At those words Jeptha looked appalled. "And a time honored one at that! Your majesty," he entreated the king for support.

The high king brought his finger tips together to form a steeple. "It is only a tradition Jeptha. King Jareth and Lady Rebekah broke no laws with their decision, however unconventional it may be. If indeed Lady Rebekah was bonded to a royal Fae prior to the interference on Brighton's part, then the 'fair game' logic does not apply."

Boldly I spoke up. "Permission to speak your majesty."

"Granted."

"My king speaks truth and Brighton was aware of my state for, while held against my will in his chambers, he spoke of our recently formed bond and his desire to break it."

"Rebekah suffered for three days," continued Jareth aggressively. "under the long term of effects of Brighton's actions; her body nearly succumbing to his designs to make her fear touch." His face turned mockingly serious as he looked Jeptha square in the face, "As to her mortal state, you are more than welcome to come and smell my wife Jeptha." He slightly turned making an offering gesture. My eye brows rose almost invitingly. "Or better yet have Rumplestiltzkin sniff her, eh? If you smell anything on her it would be the lingering scents of my recently being with her." Oberon used his fingers to cover his face that had visibly smirked. I turned red in the cheeks and bit down on the inside of mouth to prevent the outburst of laughter that wanted to escape. "Do I need to make her state any clearer to you Jeptha? Your majesty?"

The high king shook his head. Regaining his composure he continued the ruling, "If your kidnappers are among the prisoners Lady- pardon me- Queen Rebekah please point them out."

I turned and looked the two minions in their faces. Coldly I said, "I lay the charge at Rumplestiltzkin and Thrasher's feet, and were King Brighton alive I would lay it at his as well."

Rumplestiltzkin looked ready to clamor over the guards and knock me unconscious without the aid of his towering companion.

"King Jareth," said Oberon standing. "their crimes were committed on your land against your own- would you show them any mercy?"

More tradition! I thought in a moment of angst.

"I offer Rumplestiltzkin and Thrasher the same chance for survival as I would any of the prisoners- servitude with sworn loyalty to my crown. Would either of you receive my mercy?" Thrasher glanced down at his partner in crime who was currently seething. "Understand the alternative is either imprisonment or exile depending on his majesty's degree of mercy."

Thrasher looked at the high king and audibly gulped. Nudging his companion with his cuffed hands he gave the little man a stern look suggesting that common sense not anger be put to good use. Rumplestiltzkin nodded slowly and turned his face away. "My companion and I," he began, sincerity showing in his large round eyes. "accept the Goblin King's offer of mercy."

Jareth took a step towards them. He addressed Thrasher, "You are Nephilim, are you not?" He nodded. "You are a part of an old, respected race that walked with the sons of God. You do your kind justice by behaving accordingly. As for you Rumplestiltzkin, you are a Pixie, a race given to mischief and sordid gain. I will treat you well if you should seek my approval." Turning his attention towards his father again he continued, "I take the two under my charge and my roof."

Oberon indicated towards the scribe. "So mote it. On this day the Nephilim called Thrasher and the Pixie called Rumplestiltskin are here by employed as servants to Jareth the Goblin King. They will hence forth be recognized as his citizens amongst the Underground, the Goblin City, and the Labyrinth. This day as well King Brighton's lands shall be given to the Underground. I have given my judgment, so let it stand."


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

We returned to the castle that same day. Come evening I found myself examining the books and papers that I had brought with me the night Jareth had come for me. Finding one of my note books I curiously flipped through the writing my mind restless, looking but not seeing. A folded piece of paper was stuck between the pages. Examining the writing I realized it was a part of the long forgotten fanfiction I had once written about the Goblin King and myself. I read a few of the lines, grinning and laughing at my own lame use of sensual description- "he leaned his long feline body, resting his arm on the door frame, offering the already blushing girl a better view. He slowly brought his other hand to rest of the curve of his hip. The gesture and placement of said hand taunting her eyes to wander along his body." Looking up from the words I came to terms with the fact that it was time for Jareth to fully understand his story. It was time for me to fulfill my job of remembering by setting memories straight. Finding my diary, I took the book and the piece of writing with me to find him.

I found him alone in his study. A few notes lay on the desk, but the chair was empty. He had thrown open the doors to his balcony, allowing the cold night air to come wafting in. Storm clouds had slowly been gathering throughout the day and were now gently letting loose their burden- snow was drifting down, slowly, enticingly. He stood there with his cape wrapped him, letting the flakes fall on him. He didn't shiver or draw his arms closer around him, but stood there with his head inclined upward as if welcoming the snow. The scene was beautiful. As unconventional as it may be to call a man such- a man who prides himself on efficiency, on appearing powerful, near dominating with frequent use of sarcasm- it is the only word that would come to me. Beautiful.

Unconventional is what he is though, I thought watching him. It is what we are.

Unfolding the piece of paper I gave him one last look before I began to read the words I had scribbled. "The king resolved that very night she would become his. Perhaps she would resist, even fight him. Let her. It would add excitement to the already alluring challenge. He leaned his long feline body, resting his arm on the door frame, offering the already blushing girl a better view. He slowly brought his other hand to rest of the curve of his hip. The gesture and placement of said hand taunting her eyes to wander along his body. Or perhaps she would come like a shy, yet oh so very curious virgin. Licking his lips, he relished the anticipation of encountering her reactions."

"Very pretty," he said when I stopped. "That is quite the cheeky piece of writing." He kept his back towards me. Despite the chill in the air, the room remained pleasantly warm. "Is there more? Read."

I set aside the piece of paper and opened my diary to one particular entry. I took a deep breath… Here goes nothing… "Today I finally had that much needed talk with King Oberon. I am still near reeling in everything he told me, and before I forget any of the details I must get this all out. How fans of The Labyrinth would react if they knew what I knew! Yet crazier still, what am I going to do with what I now know? King Oberon is the Fae king from the story; King Oberon was the one in love Sarah! Apparently Brian Froud is Fae touched and had on occasion been a guest of Oberon's. He needed a story for the Henson company; he got the personal account of the high king's infatuation with a mortal girl named Sarah! It's just insane. The whole lot of them- Henson, Froud, Smith, Lucas- all then embellished the story. Jareth hasn't forgotten Sarah; he never even knew her!" I paused, feeling shaky. Closing the diary I set it on the edge of the desk. "It's all there," I then told him. "Everything your father told me. I'll leave you to read it." I turned to leave.

At the door his voice stopped me. "You called me your king today... before the entire court too. How my heart did swell with pride to hear you say it." I looked back. He had come into the room. "Come here." He offered his hand. I took it. He led me out on to the balcony. "Tell me what you see."

From the study's balcony I could see out into the city square. The lamps had been lit. The orange and yellow flames made the snow into liquid gold, falling over a blessed kingdom. I saw a few goblins scurrying about. The local tavern was alive with laughter and music; merry making both for the victory of war and the good cheer of the holiday season. Beyond the city stretched the Labyrinth, the entity of stones and mortar resting under the blanket of snow. I saw the lands; I saw the Underground, the Goblin King's domain. I told him all I saw, a feeling close to pride swelling in my chest.

"And do you love all that you see?"

"Yes." I glanced away from the land only to look back on it with need. "Yes I love it all."

"Then what difference does it make?" That question made me look at him. His face was gentle. "If you are here, loving and embracing the Underground then it matters not to me what past infatuations I may or may not have had."

"But… you didn't have any," I said.

"All the better. Neither one of us can have a guilty conscious then." Putting his hands on my shoulders he stepped behind me and turned me again to look out over the city. "I suspected that things were not as we had supposed. After all it would have been impossible for us to bond had my true love been another. I chose you Rebekah Aura Clysdale and you accepted my offer. Remember," he voice very near my ear. "I will hold you to your promise forever."

Amused I murmured, "…not long at all." Concurring he wrapped me in his cape and kissed the side of my head.

………..

In the bedroom I lay stretched out in the center of the bed. The stillness of the night was comforting. The warmness of the room made the castle feel like home. Home, I thought to myself again, realizing it was the first time I had actually acknowledged the place as such. Glancing around, I saw the diary of all my secret thoughts lying on the side table. It reminded me of all my work that was back at the apartment in the Aboveground where the convenience of a computer had been at my disposal. I had been about writing a novel; a well educated fantasy story. Jareth came out from the washroom in his white linen night clothes.

Well, I thought watching him move across the room, I certainly am well educated in all things fantasy now.

Coming near he hugged one of the massive bed posts, openly ogling me. "I am so very glad I found you," he said.

I smiled feeling very flattered. Something stirred in the recesses of my memory banks. Lying there I dared the question that had once been passionately evaded. "How did you find me?"

"Ah! The mother of all questions! You have asked this question before."

"Indeed, and as I recall it the answer was not very satisfactory."

"Not very satisfactory?" he responded feigning shock. He tapped out a quick drum rhythm on the post giving me a most shrewd look. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well," I paused, wondering just how playful I should be. "If I am the mortal woman who won the heart of the Goblin King, I should think that I would be entitled to know my own story."

"Do you now?" I nodded. He considered the situation. Drumming his fingers again his eyes seemed to develop a slight glint. "Hmm… the story of the mortal woman who won the heart of the Goblin King. Perhaps it is the story of the Goblin King who won the heart of the mortal woman?"

I laughed at him. "All possible copy right infringements aside, please humor me."

"All right, all right I'll humor you." I sat up gathering my knees to my chest. "Several years ago there was a young yet devilishly handsome Goblin King who, being bored with his current state of affairs and subjects, sought out amusement in the land of the Aboveground where mortals dwell."

"Was this king searching for anything or one specifically?" I asked.

"He was looking for something new and exciting; something that would hold him captivated."

"And what did he find?

"One afternoon, as he strolled in a neighborhood park, he saw a young woman. She must have thought herself quite alone for she was carrying on a conversation with herself out loud; her voice changing in tone representing a myriad of characters. In her hands she held a note book from which the words came. Now admittedly the king was first drawn to her by her appearance- she had a head of shocking red hair that fell past her shoulders and curvaceous womanly figure." He winked at me. "Yet, as he stood there, watching unobserved, it was her voice that held him captive." He paused moving along the bed to the side. "Many a time the king did come to hear her stories. Her voice spoke of emotions and scenes, castles and forests, creatures and people who seemed to leap alive around her as she spoke. So captivated did he become that one night he ventured to follow her home. Through her voice he found her soul."

"So… what happened?" I asked as he sat down.

"What would a fairy tale be without a little bit of angst? Returning to the Underground, the king sought permission from the High Courts to bring the mortal woman to his realm, for he argued he was in love with her. The members of court were most hesitant to grant him his request. Mortals in general were not comfortable with the realm of the Fae any more. He was going to have to prove that this mortal, whom he so desperately pined for, was accepting of their world. Well, as luck would have it, just as the king was preparing to woo this mortal woman, a neighboring king decided to cause trouble by casting a forgetting spell on the Goblin King's kingdom."

"Oh no!"

"Oh yes! Now what was our darling king to do?"

"What indeed!"

"Well, wouldn't you know it, but the mortal woman's voice possessed an immense power. The mortal woman was silver-tongued. Being at once both pleased and embarrassed the Goblin King had to swallow his pride and share his state of weakness with the woman. Having her in the Underground was thrilling. Letting her see him vulnerable was… awkward."

"I am sure that they strove to understand one another," I offered.

He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair. "It took time, but she eventually found him to be completely and thoroughly irresistible." He grinned.

"And he," I began, placing a hand on his arm. "gave her his heart."

He brought his face close to mine. "A gift she had better never take for granted."

I took his face in my hands. "Never Jareth, believe me." My tone had dropped its playful edge.

For a moment we just sat there, regarding each other, feeling both excited and pleased. He took one of my hands and kissed each finger, deliberately and slowly. Moving from my fingers to my hand, he trailed his lips further along my arm. With gentle persuasion he had me lying back again on the bed. Leaning over me he murmured, "Orange blossoms. Spring time flowers." I smiled, feeling his soft hair that fell around my face. He moved away, dropping his head to my chest. After kissing my skin he turned to lay his ear against me. Curious I asked what he was doing. "Listening," was his response.

"To what?"

"Our hearts beating." In my own ears I heard the pumping of blood. "They sound very well taken care of." Squeezing me about the waist he kissed my chest again. I put my arms around him and hugged him to me.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

"Married in Vegas!"

Jareth turned his head and winked at me. We sat on the couch in Valery's little town house. To my left the little pine tree blinked in the glow of red, blue, and white lights. I inhaled the fragrance of the needles mixed with the heavier smell of coffee. It was Christmas Eve. Affectionately I put my hand on his blue jean clad leg and squeezed. He responded by putting his arm around my shoulders. We had just told Valery, in a rather round-about way, that we had gotten married.

"Married in Vegas!" she had exclaimed. To her the location was the only explanation for our secretive elopement that had not included two of my closest friends. Neither one of us bothered to correct her assumption. "Eddie!" she called out.

Eddie came out of the backroom holding pieces of sheet music. "I heard you my dear," he said smiling. "Married in Vegas, eh? Well that is just fine. Drive thru style?" he then asked, coming near to shake Jareth's hand warmly.

I saw the slight hesitation around his eyes, just that little flinch. Before I could answer Eddie's question Valery was interjecting, "Don't be silly Eddie! Cookie has far too much class to have a drive thru ceremony. You know as well as I do they went into some little chapel of love."

"Right and Reverend Elvis presided?"

Understanding finally came to Jareth. "Unfortunately the king was busy that day," he said grinning. "But, uh, other royalty were most accommodating."

Eddie laughed in good humor. I distinctly heard Valery giggle. I smiled approvingly.

"Come along then to the table," Valery was then saying. "Before this turkey gets the notion to sprout feathers and wander off. Mr. Mysterious," she said addressing Jareth. "Would you bless the food?"

"Of course." He took my hand and bowed his head. In my heart I almost hoped he would begin a Fae blessing- wouldn't that surprise Valery and Eddie? He used the common language, expressing thanks for the food, blessings on the hands that prepared it, and a wish for future happiness on all of us sitting around the table.

Later in the kitchen I helped Valery prepare dessert and another pot of coffee. From the freezer she brought out a cake box mumbling about how she couldn't possibly have made everything from scratch. Pouring the water into the coffee maker I relished the feeling of family I had with her. It was going to be a lengthy span of time before I would be able to come back again. Jareth only dared stayed for the one day- responsibilities and his own kindred's celebrations were waiting for us back in the Underground. In the other room I heard Jareth's voice and Eddie's laughter. Underneath their voices was the radio playing yet another rendition of "Little Drummer Boy."

"Hello!" I saw a hand flash in front of my eyes. I blinked. "Earth to Cookie! Where are you?"

"Uh? Oh I'm sorry! Lost in thought there for a moment." I flipped the switch on the machine to begin brewing the coffee.

"Must have been quite the thought- you were looking mighty dreamy. Would you put these cookies on that tray? Thanks. So," she began removing the chilled pre-made cake from the box. "is he any good?"

"Eh?"

She looked at me raising one of her eye brows. "You know…between the sheets?"

Realizing the topic, I laughed giddily. "Ahem! Well, if you must know… yes, he's dang good."

"Indeed," said a male voice.

Startling, we both turned to see Jareth entering the little kitchen. Deja vu, I thought beyond amused. Valery gave me a stifled smile. Leaning back on the counter I cheekily directed a question at him, "Would you say otherwise?"

He let his eyes fall over me. "Absolutely not. If my lady says I am 'dang good' then I am certainly in no position to contradict." He came near and leaned against the counter next to me. "I'll embellish the sentiments by saying we make doves cry."

"Mr. Mysterious," began Valery with distinct coloring in her cheeks. "I don't know what you have been doing to Cookie, but whatever it is don't stop! I distinctly recall a time she would have slapped you for making such suggestive comments." She wagged her finger at me. Having placed the cake on a serving tray, she picked it up and made for the door. "I'll give you two a moment alone."

With her gone, I looked up at him. "Make doves cry? Really now!"

He shrugged. "What would you rather have heard: we make animals strike curious poses? Or better yet: we make goblins blush?"

"Jareth!" I hissed at him and slapped his shoulder.

"Oh please!" he mocked exasperation. Standing in front of me he braced his arms on either side of me against the counter. He raised one of his eye brows. "Do you remember the last time we found ourselves in Valery's kitchen?"

"I do indeed. Seems almost like another life time ago. Ghads, I've missed her!"

"Sorry we can't stay longer." He gently brushed hair from the side of my face. "I promise though that you'll visit her from time to time. I won't let you two forget each other." Valery called us into the other room to exchange gifts.

We stayed until the evening. At about six o'clock Jareth began taking our gifts out to our car. Eddie hugged me and kissed my head before disappearing in the back room again, saying he hated good byes. Valery walked me to the doorway. Outside snow had begun falling again. "Here," she said handing me a zip locked bag of cookies. "take these with you." A moment of awkwardness passed between us. I heard the trunk of the car slam shut. "Cookie," she began. She looked out at Jareth and then back at me. "I know."

I looked at her quizzically, though my heart had literally just jumped in my chest. "What? I don't follow you."

"I know that where he's taking you I won't be able to reach you by telephone, or by car, or bus, or plane. You two are going some where very far away."

From the way her eyes were searching me I knew that evading her was not going to be an option. "How do you know?"

She half smiled. "Well… it's kind of all based on a crazy dream, but… I don't think it was a dream. Eddie and I we were," she paused. "We were some where else, like another world or dimension. You were there too, as was Jareth. Something bad was happening."

I rubbed my hands together, feeling the cold winter air. "You weren't supposed to remember. You're right though."

"I'm pretty sure everything is alright now. It was bad there for a while, but it is good now. Just promise me something Cookie," she took my cold hands in hers. "Don't forget me."

"Oh honey!" I embraced her. "Never!"

Jareth came up the steps. His normally pale skin was rosy with the cold air. He held a small wrapped box in his hands. "Valery, we nearly forgot this last gift!" He gave it to her. He put his arm around me and winked. "Go on then- open it up before we leave!"

She popped the lid. Inside nestled in velvet was a clear sphere that seemed to glimmer of its own accord. Curiously she looked up at me. My eyes were alive with surprise. "It's a crystal," he said smiling, as if that explained everything. "You'll figure it out. We must be on our way now. Goodbye Valery!" He hugged her carefully.

"I love you Valery!" I told her as I embraced her. "Be very careful with it!" I then said as I pulled away.

We waved and yelled to each other, and then climbed into the car. Careful of the snow Jareth maneuvered the vehicle onto the street. Quickly the winter storm worsened. Whiteness surrounded us, putting visibility at zero. Less than a block away he slowed the car to a halt. He unbuckled his seat belt and took hold of the door handle. I did the same. "Let's go home Rebekah." He grinned at me. Opening my door, a rush of wind nearly blinded me with snow. I walked into the whiteness. Barely a yard into the cold, it began to clear. I could make out the front of the castle. Instead of pants and a heavy jacket, my clothes changed into a wool skirt and a fur lined cloak. Jareth appeared at my side. His blue jeans were gone and he walked wrapped in his own heavy cloak. Very near I heard Heather calling out Bartholomew's name. At the door Hoggle was there with a sprig of holly in his little hand. We were home.


End file.
